


the midas light turning your limbs to gold

by queenpeletier (areyoumarriedriver)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Series, post series 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/pseuds/queenpeletier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d shoved the registration paperwork in front of his face with a brief run down on how shit worked there – the condominiums they’d cleared for housing while residential areas were repurposed for other shit like clinics and farming and schools. She’d explained that there were three buildings – singles, family and married couples without kids – and he’d done something stupid.</p><p>Like registered her as Carol Dixon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 001. first kiss

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm doing an experiment. I have this 100 word prompt thing on tumblr and even though I never ever post works in progress until they're done, I've been trying to work on this story idea for the last two months and nothing was happening with it. So I thought - maybe this will kick start my muse. I'm aiming to post a chapter 5 times a week, but I will probably fail at that so bear with me :)

**_001\. first kiss_ **

It’s nothing like he pictured.

Not that he spent a whole lot of time sitting around imagining shit like how soft her mouth would feel under his, but it occupied his mind when he was trying to fall asleep once or twice. He’d imagined a thousand different ways for it to happen – soft and sweet, a confession whispered quietly in the dark when he was feeling brave; hard and punishing in the heat of an argument; desperate longing in an inevitable explosion of tension – but this was none of those things.

It wasn’t soft or passionate or punishing – hell it wasn’t even his idea in the fucking first place. Not technically, anyway. It was awkward, his lips too dry and chapped and his hands were curled over her shoulders carefully – like she might crumble away if he gripped her too tightly. But none of that – awkward noses bumping or his dry lips brushing over hers while he holds his body stiffly away from her – is the worst part. The worst part is that it’s all for fucking show.

None of this is _real_.

And really all the ways he dreamed it happening (fine he fucking _dreams_ about her – he can admit it in his own head even if he’ll never fucking say it out loud) it’s almost laughably apt. Because men like him don’t get the girl. Don’t even fucking _attempt_ to get the girl. He knows – it’s different now, nothing’s the way it used to be, but he spent forty years believing one thing – even the fucking end of the world can’t change that.

Dixons weren’t meant for love. It’d been true of his Daddy, his Mama and his brother.

So the fact that he’s getting everything he ever wanted, but not really, is actually pretty fucking predictable.

It’d been an accident, honestly. She’d been hurt – just before they reached the safe zone. End of the fucking road – god willing – and they’d made one last run for supplies before they started surveillance. And shit went downhill, because when fucking doesn’t it? She’d fallen – fucking tripped  during a struggle with a walker and damn near cracked her skull open. She hadn’t woken up, and he’d spent nearly twenty hours fucking terrified as he forced their hand and insisted they go to the safe zone right the fuck now. They had supplies – they could help her.

And they had,  their cantankerous old nurse had bustled around, yapping about inducing hypothermia to make sure her brain didn’t swell while ordering people around, including him. She’d shoved the registration paperwork in front of his face with a brief run down on how shit worked there – the condominiums they’d cleared for housing while residential areas were repurposed for other shit like clinics and farming and schools. She’d explained that there were three buildings – singles, family and married couples without kids – and he’d done something stupid.

Like registered her as Carol Dixon, because like fuck he wasn’t keeping an eye on her here. They didn’t know these people – they’d had no time to do any surveillance thanks to the accident – he’d wanted to keep her close.

He’d wanted to protect her, he’d insisted to himself. That was all this was.

And that was why he’d kissed her after she woke up – curled his hands over her shoulders while the desperate feeling of relief flowed through his veins making his heart pound and his hands shake. He’d been startled, that’s all – half-asleep in the chair next to her bed while he waited and he’d woken to the nurse’s observation that Carol was very lucky to have a husband so devoted and he’d startled forward before Carol could correct her.

And now here he was.

Kissing her to shut her up, kissing her long enough that Nurse Ratchet cleared her throat before laughing and leaving them alone, long enough for him to know that her mouth fit his perfectly and how the fuck was he ever supposed to sleep again without that knowledge burning through his brain?

“How long was I out? Wait am I still out? Because she said husband and what the hell, Daryl?”  Her voice was dry and it shook as he pulled back, her eyes meeting his.  There was a heaviness in her gaze that sat on his chest, crushing his heart on impact. He pushed the feeling aside and reached for the bottle of water on her bedside table, letting her have a few sips as he struggled to find the words to ease them past the kiss.

“We had to book it here when you got hurt. Didn’t have nothing for you at camp – thought you weren’t going to make it.” His explanation is slow and halting – the difficulty of explaining towering over him as he tried to forget how it had all _felt_. The terror and the praying and the swearing up and down to anyone who listened to prayers anymore that he’d do anything – just if she lived.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry –”

He takes her hands in his, squeezing and cutting her off with a shake of his head. “Not your fault. Just happened.”

“And I slept thorough the wedding? How rude of me,” she teased him then, her voice light as she broached the topic and he looked down, feeling heat crawl up over the back of his neck as he disentangled his hand from hers to rub the heat away, before scratching his head.

“They asked us to register – Rick wanted us to stick as close together as possible,” he improvised – not technically a lie but Rick hadn’t said shit to him until after he’d told the man what he’d done – “Figured it was the easiest way.”

“How romantic,” Carol spoke in a dry tone, her eyes twinkling up at him as she smiled, before she sat up with a groan. “How long was I out though, seriously?” She eyed the small bedroom as her stomach growled loudly and he huffed out a laugh as she pulled a face at him.

“Twenty hours.” His answer was short – he didn’t want to dwell on those hours. She was here.

“Hey. I’m still here,” she noticed his discomfort  – of fucking course she noticed, the woman read him like a book most times.

“Hey – _we’re_ here.” He corrected and she smiled tightly at him.

“Is it safe? We were supposed to watch them – find out-” He could see her worry grow as she frowned and gripped the edge of the bed, sitting up, long pale legs swinging toward the floor and she looked startled for a moment, glancing down at her hospital gown.

“Hey, hey, hey – calm down. We’re fine. We’re all sticking close together, Rick said it looked good. Safe. I haven’t been out of here to see – but we can go look later. You need food. Probably have a bitch of a headache too. I’ll just go-”

“Such a good husband already,” she teased him again and he flushed.

“Stop,” he protested, standing stiffly in front of her as he avoided her gaze. He could hear her giggle though, the sound bubbly and bright and he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the all too rare sound. “How much of that am I going to have to put up with? He signed, glancing over at her as she grinned.

“Just about a lifetime, Pookie.”


	2. 026. hope

**_026\. hope_ **

It was two days before Jo – the crotchety nurse – released Carol from the clinic. He’d spent as much time with her as he could, but he also had to finish registering himself and her. It was a lot of paperwork, interviews, assessment of skills and finally being housed.

He hated the apartment. It was on the 4th floor – not close enough to the ground and too far from the roof for a decent escape plan – and it was in a word, generic. It’s still probably the nicest place he’s ever owned, but the walls are all a pale cream and the carpet was beige and the furniture was a mish-mash of neutral colours and the bare minimum of furniture surrounded the stone fireplace on the wall. Two chairs. One tall lamp. One end table. The barest of kitchen supplies, four towels, a shower they could operate on warm for twenty minutes every second day thanks to the solar panels on the roof, and a double bed.

There weren’t enough windows and he felt boxed in, itching to leave it as soon as he got indoors.

The bed situation worried him – but he could bunk on the floor, it wasn’t that big of a problem. Except for the arguing with Carol part that will happen when he told her that. He even slept on the floor the last two nights – why get used to a bed you weren’t keeping?

Carol gripped his hand tightly as he walked beside her up the stairs, slowly. The solar power wasn’t enough to run elevators – they were slowly making their way up the stairwell while Carol chattered in his ear. Which was fucking weird, because Carol wasn’t exactly a chatty type. She was more the type to listen to everything, and say shit only when it needed to be said. It was one of his fucking favourite things about her, actually.

“Stop,” he finally interrupted her musings about the town hierarchy and she bit her lip, glancing at him. “You alright?” He glanced at her in concern and she nodded enthusiastically, wincing almost instantly.

“Sorry. It’s weird. It’s weird right? We’ve lived together but that was communal. This just feels – weird?”

“We ain’t even in there yet – maybe just hold off on the panic attack. I know I ain’t the best roommate, but I sure as hell ain’t the worst.” He grumbled as he tugged on her elbow, guiding her up the stairs.

“True. Have you heard how Ty snores?” Carol laughed at that and he huffed, shaking his head as he led her up the final flight. “Do we have an actual key?”

“No. Ain’t no way they could’ve. But we have a dead bolt so you can sure as shit lock people out.”

“Best behavior then, hmm? Wouldn’t want to be the first one I tested that on,” she teased as they walked down the hushed hall, the deep green carpet muffling their footfalls.

“Stop,” he mumbled as he led her into the door labelled 407, and he closed and locked it behind him, quickly. He heard her start to move around the room and she hummed in satisfaction. “I like it. Nothing more than just what we need.” He hummed in agreement as he picked up her bag and carried it through to the equally sparse bedroom, and of course she followed him.

“I hope you don’t think you’ll be wearing those god awful boots all through what is technically our home,” Laughter bubbled under her words, lifting and dropping her voice as she struggled to keep it in. Her almost giggles stopped as she walked in to the bedroom after him. “Oh.”

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor, it’s fine. You’re in the bed, and don’t you fucking argue with me about it – you could have died. You sleep in the bed.” He avoided her gaze as he spoke, occupying his hands with opening her pack and pulling her few clothes out of it, placing it in the plastic bins he’d found under the bed.

“I sure as hell will,” she agreed and he felt her gaze on him as she paused. “You’re unpacking?” Her voice was oddly strained and he looked up to see her eyes on the book he’d just removed from her bag, a battered copy of Tom Sawyer.

He stopped immediately, dropping it to the thick blankets that covered the bed - none of them matched, and they ranged in color but all of them were ugly as fuck and sporting either some pattern that looked like it belonged in the 70s or some touristy Navaho weave. But they were all warm, he knew after having rolled himself up in half of those itchy fuckers.

His eyes met hers and he nodded slowly. “We have to run we wither have time to pack or don’t have time to grab shit – either way clothes and  _things_  ain’t gonna be what we grab. Weapons.”

She was hugging herself carefully, arms wrapped around her own elbows as she shifted and nodded. “Yeah. I suppose that’s true. They’re just things,” she sounded like she was reminding herself of the fact and he huffed before shoving a hand through his hair as he shifted toward her.

“They’re not just things. But this place… could be it, you know? Rest of our miserable lives. And just because the past few years sucked, don’t mean I gotta assume the next few will, do I?” He wasn’t saying what he wanted to say – that he wanted to hope again. And maybe he knew that she would resist this – and that was more of the reason for what he did than he’d like to admit. But they didn’t survive all of this shitty world for her to just slowly pull back and disappear right before him like smoke.

She stared at him for a moment before she made her way closer, sinking on to the edge of the bed as she sighed. Her breath caught and he watched her struggle for a moment before she reached over and picked up the old book, stroking the cover for a moment and smiling. She laughed under her breath as she put the book aside, before shaking her head slowly and glancing back up at him. “Thank you. For unpacking,” she elaborated and he shrugged, shifting from foot to foot before he finally sank down to sit next to her, leaning off the bed, his elbows digging in to his knees as he twisted his hands together.

“Any place could be it, I suppose.” He spoke softly and heard her hum in agreement behind him. “Time to stop mourning the shitty way it was before, or measuring it against it. It ain’t that way anymore. It’s this way now. Just gotta keep going.”

“Need a reason to do that,” she finally spoke after a moment and he glanced over his shoulder at her, his gaze bordering on a glare as irritation ran through him.

“We got one. Got a whole bunch.”

She let out a shaky breath as she lifted her gaze to his and nodded. “I’m still trying, Daryl.” Her words felt like a promise and he nodded in acceptance. The moment shifted, the air around them easing as she eased herself back on the bed. “Is it sad that the walk over here exhausted me? Shit I am too old for this.” She rubbed her hands over her face and he barked out a laugh.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he agreed as he laid back with her, stretching his back against the firm mattress. He startled when she gasped and he turned his head to see her glaring at him. “I meant me too, you asshole.”

Her grin finally broke free and she laughed. “I vote the very first thing we do with our new bed in our new apartment in our new home,” her voice dropped lower as she inched closer and he swallowed heavily, his muscles tensing even as he waited for it – whatever fucking mischief she was up to judging by the sparkle in her eyes. “Is  _nap_ ,” she finally finished and he huffed, rolling his eyes as he shifted to get up. Her hand, small on his shoulder stilled him as she made a noise of protest. “No, both of us. Come on.”

“I’m not tired-”

“Daryl,” her voice sounded heavy with exhaustion and when he looked over at her she was looking at him, all the teasing gone from her face. “I’m tired. And we both know I am not making you sleep on the floor. We have a bed. It’s big enough for both of us, and hell, we’re  _married_  now,” her voice peaked sharply over the word as he winced. “Just sleep on the damn bed.”

“I don’t sleep with people,” he finally bit the words out – not sure how to explain it but her face softened anyway, despite his lack of words.

“We’ll move the bed to the corner. You can have the inside,” she spoke simply and he looked at her for a moment, knowing that she’d suggested it for him. To make him comfortable while he slept. He was quiet a moment, thinking about how maybe it wasn’t about just hoping for better, or trying for it – it was doing it. Being scared and just doing it anyway.

“Nah, leave it where it’s at. I’ll sleep on the right, since I know you’ll never shut up until I just do it anyway.” His words sounded grudging but she simply smiled up at him and patted his shoulder.

“You’re already the best husband I’ve ever had,” she teased as she eased herself up on to the left pillow. He tried not to think about the truth running through her light tone.

“This ever gonna stop?” His voice was tired as he asked and he heard her giggle, muffled against her pillow.

“Divorce is always an option,” she laughed as he eased down behind her, kicking his boots off and tugging two blankets up – one for each of them. She mumbled something that sounded like thanks to him, her eyes already closed as she slipped into sleep. He huffed, leaning over to unbuckle her sheath and slide her knife under her pillow, before he did the same with her gun. She was out cold by the time he settled into his spot, and he rolled over, watching her face as she slept, feeling the quiet hush of the room surround them until his own limbs felt heavy.

He’d let her tease him forever, he thought tiredly, before divorce ever became an option.


	3. 047. blush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to mild drug use.

**_047\. blush_ **

The knocking woke him up and he startled awake, his hand halfway under his pillow and reaching for his knife before he remembered where he was. His body felt heavy, weighted into the mattress and he glanced down, flushing when he realized the weight was Carol, sprawled against his side and somewhat over him.

He swallowed tightly, easing out from under her as she sighed in her sleep. He scratched his head as he looked at her – it was the damnedest thing. Normally she slept perfectly still, never moving and generally waking in the same position she’d fallen asleep in. He shook his head as the knocking continued and he moved through the living room over to the door, opening it. Their friends were packed in to the hall like sardines and he stared at them for a moment before he shrugged. “I don’t know where the fuck you all are gonna sit,” he grumbled. Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Carl and Judith walked in, Rick chuckling at him.

“We thought it would be better to visit in small groups.”

“But not _too_ small, so it’s not a constant stream. Two groups – an hour each,” Michonne assured him and Daryl nodded as they stood in a circle. Carl put Judith down on the carpet, handing the girl her favourite plastic cups and she squealed in delight. Daryl blinked at the noise and he smiled at the baby when not a single person shushed her.

“She’s actually napping,” Daryl glanced at the hall but the bedroom door opened and Carol slid out, one hand on the wall.

“No I’m not,” she protested in a rough voice, and he instantly met her, his hand taking hers as he helped her to her chair while everyone else sat on the floor as well, assembled around her like kids at story time “Honestly, I’m fine. I mean my head hurts like a son of a gun, but I’m good. How are all of you?”

“We’re fine,” Glenn answered with a grin. “I mean it’s no _honeymoon_ -”

“I will kill you,” Daryl spoke flatly and Carol giggled, before she winced and put a hand to her head, nudging him gently.

“Hey, stop making me laugh, it hurts,” she scolded and he shrugged.

“Weren’t trying to be funny, I was serious,” he looked over at Glenn who was grinning even harder now – and Daryl started to glare at him, but he realized both Maggie and he were sitting there, beaming at him and Carol and fuck if he’d seen much in the way of smiles from either of them lately. Carol’s hand slid to his shoulder, squeezing gently as his body relaxed. She left it there, and he shifted until his back was against the arm of her chair, her knees resting against his other shoulder.

“So, why exactly weren’t we invited to the wedding?” Michonne asked in a dead pan voice. “What – you don’t like me or something, Dixon? I’d have got you something. Flea powder.”

Daryl just huffed in irritation and glared at her. “Yeah, you’re all real funny.”

“It was a good idea,” Rick stressed, silencing everyone on the matter. “The more of us that stick together, the better.”

“How is it here? I’ve only met the nurse and saw what we saw on the walk over here,” Carol eased back, turning toward Rick, who was in the process of rolling a cup toward Judy.

“It seems good,” Rick observed in a tired voice. “But we stick together, all of us. We don’t know these people yet. They could be good people. They might not. Just – it’s good that everyone is with someone. Tara, Michonne, Rosita and Sasha all got put together. Same with Abe and Eugene, Ty and Noah. It’s four singles to an apartment – Daryl was smart to do what he did. This building has you and Daryl and Glenn and Maggie. We’re in the family building – all three buildings are right here. Everyone just keep your weapons close – until we know for sure.”

“Have you talked to many people?” Carol asked in a low voice and Daryl looked up at her, seeing the lines of pain etched in to her face.

“Everyone seems good. I’ve got no reason to be suspicious – just normal caution,” Rick assured her and she nodded. Judith laughed out loud, chortling and clapping her hands together as the cup rolled toward her from where Carl had pushed it.

“There’s lots of kids in our building,” Carl offered. “The guy across the hall has a little boy just a month older than Judy.” He grinned up at Carol, “They even make school optional after 14. Dad says I still have to do the work, but I can work at a job during the day. They assigned me wall patrol and supervising gun training when it’s needed.” The kid looked proud and Carol hummed in approval. “You’ll have your meeting with the leadership council once you’re better, Carol,” he spoke with a small smile.

“It sounds good. Daryl explained everything after his meeting with them yesterday,” she smiled back at him but her skin was pale.

“I’m getting Jo,” Daryl started to insist, and Rick held up a hand.

“Why don’t we go get her? I’ll tell the others to wait until tomorrow – we didn’t realize you were still in so much pain.”

“I’m fine-”

“Nurse said that she could get bad headaches for the next few months. Her brain swelled – we’re fucking lucky it didn’t do any cognitive damage.” Daryl spoke over her assurances with a glare and the rest of them were staring at him with bemused grins. “What? I listened to what she told me. Said she’d drop by today with some natural remedy for them – since the narcotics are saved for the critical cases.”

“Makes sense with this many people,” Glenn offered.

“We’ll go,” Rick stood, leaning down to scoop up Judy. “You need quiet,” he spoke to Carol who reached up and stroked Judith’s foot gently.

“It’s nice to not _have_ to have it, though,” she smiled up at all of them. “Thank you for coming,” she squeezed Rick’s hand and he leaned down, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as she nuzzled the baby. Everyone filed by her, squeezing her shoulder or hugging her or pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll hurry Jo over,” Michonne offered as she smiled at them, waving before she exited the room, closing the door behind her.

“That was nice,” Carol offered once the room was quiet again. “It’s going to be weird here, you know? Not seeing everyone first thing in the morning or last at night.”

“Be fucking peaceful is what it will be. You need anything? Glass of water? I think we got tea here, have to drink it black though.” She hummed in interest at his words and he nodded, standing up with a groan. “I’ll make it.”

“Thank you, Daryl,” she offered in a sweet voice and he felt his cheeks go red as he waved her off and tromped in to the small kitchen. He dropped a few tea bags in to the beaten kettle there, heavy metal with a long handle. When he walked back to where he’d left her, he found her not there, but starting a fire in the fireplace to heat the water.

“Don’t – I’ll do it,” he shooed her back to the chair, scratching his head as he carried on lighting the fire. “Jo told me they picked this whole place because every god damned condo had its own fireplace,” he offered as he watched the flames lick at the log and hung the kettle from the steel rod installed for just such a purpose.

“Makes sense. People can cook for themselves if they need to – heat the place. It’ll be nice when we need it. Seems a waste to light it just for tea though,” she offered and he shook his head.

“It is. But I’m gonna heat some water for the tub for you, and cook a can of something.  If what Jo brings you works, I’m probably going to try hunting tomorrow. Bring something in, make myself useful.”

A knock interrupted him, and he called out that it wasn’t locked. Jo bustled in, an orange quilted bag under her arm and an apologetic look on her face. Her white hair was braided to the left and she huffed as she closed the door behind herself. When he offered her tea, she declined and sighed, “I swear, the clinic was like a god damn mad house when you left. One of the lumbar line damn near cut his arm half open – needed forty-two stitches, can you imagine? I’m sorry dear – I’d have sent someone else over if I could, but only two people have access and the other one is off on a three-day run at the moment.”

“It’s fine, Jo. I don’t even really need anything-”

“Stop.” Daryl glared at Carol before he looked at Jo. “What’s in the bag?” He frowned as she unzipped it and a familiar tang filled the air. “Is that fucking weed?”

“Easy to grow, hardy, can be used for everything from nausea to stomachaches to generalized pain. One of the men brought it in – used to be a grower before all this went down. We voted on it – but it wouldn’t have made a lick of sense not to use it. No worse than the risk of using expired painkillers anyway. This okay?” She looked at Carol when she asked and Carol flushed, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, I’ve used it before. In college – before I met Ed,” she explained to him, wincing. “Not – not seriously. Just at parties, sometimes.”

“This okay?” Jo looked at Daryl then and he sighed, nodding.

“Don’t want her to hurt,” he explained and she nodded.

“Here,” she handed Daryl a ziploc bag with a handful of joints and a large white label on it with neat handwriting. “No more than six inhalations are needed. You have to keep count and be with her when she takes it. Those are the rules. If she needs a refill, come see me.  Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah,” he nodded as he took the bag from her. “We’re good. She have to go outside? To smoke?”

“You probably didn’t notice – there’s a small balcony on each unit. Right through those doors,” she waved at the double window at the end of the kitchen. “Alright I have to run back – it’s like they all know when I step out of the door.  Carol, write down when you get your headaches – I need to know when I see you in a few days.”  With a nod and a wave she left the room quickly, her manner brisk but her smile bright.

Daryl looked at Carol for a moment, noticing the redness that still lingered in her cheeks. “So, you wanna get high?”

“Daryl!” Her cheeks rounded as she laughed and looked away from him. She bit her lip after a moment and glanced at him. “My head _is_ killing me though,” she smiled and he laughed before he moved over to the fire, pouring tea and setting it there to cool. When he stood, he walked over to her, offering her a hand up that she took, her cheeks still pink.

After exactly six puffs and her calling him a narc when he pointed out that she tried to count her fifth puff twice, they were both sitting in the surprisingly comfortable little wing chairs, pulled close to the fire. Daryl had never seen Carol like this in his life – not even ever really drunk when they had gotten their hands on any alcohol – she was that giggly, bubbly sort of high. Merle’d only ever used weed to mellow out. It made him quiet, hungry and sleepy – in that order.

But Carol laughed at everything and talked a lot while he just had to nod along, and she kept going. “Am I talking too much? Because I feel like I am. Oh shit, Daryl I should have told you what I get like on this stuff. I’m terrible. But my head feels much better! And you’re really quiet, but I like that. I think my favourite times are ones where we’re just doing things – quiet-like. I like that we don’t always have to talk? That sounds stupid but I know what I mean.”

“Christ, Carol, you gonna breathe?” He huffed out a laugh and her cheeks flushed before she giggled, putting her free hand over her mouth.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she lifted her hand and reached for his arm, dropping it there like it was nothing. He swallowed, feeling the heat of her palm as he tried to focus on her words. “-giggly and handsy, every single time, I am so sorry. Maybe just four inhales next time, oh my god.”

He nodded, watching her and enjoying the flush on her skin, the way her eyes laughed up at him. She quieted for a bit, sipping her tea and groaning in delight as he shifted and looked at the fire intently.  It was growing darker outside, and the fire was the only light they had in the room. They could have put the lamp on, but neither of them moved to do it – the concept of electricity so foreign to them at this point. He glanced at her, watching the firelight on her skin as she stared at the flames as well.

“It was smart, you know,” her voice sounded earnest and she turned to look at him. “I’ve teased you a lot, but when Rick was naming names today – you and I would have been on our own in single housing. I don’t know how you thought of all that so quickly, but I’m sorry if I’ve been teasing too much. I mean, I won’t _stop_ either? God you’re just so much _fun_ to wind up, Daryl you get the cutest little _face_ – oh shit, I didn’t mean – _shit_. _Shit_.” She blushed bright red - even by the firelight - and he grinned, reaching up to push his hair out of his face as he eyed her.  Her hands reached up and covered her face as she continued to repeat her favourite curse. “Just forget I said that,” was mumbled from under her hands. He laughed, surprising her as she peeked over at him, but he just grinned and looked back at the fire.

“Nope, pretty sure I’m gonna remember that you said that for the rest of my life.”


	4. 014. daybreak

**_014\. daybreak_ **

He left at dawn, slipping out of the apartment without waking her, but he left a note on the bed for her to find when she woke up so she wouldn’t worry. He slipped through the gate, crossbow a steady weight against his shoulder and the weak sunlight trying to warm the back of his neck as he crept into the woods with his pack and weapon only.

He was glad the council had allowed him to hunt alone – they had teams that went out on rotation, but hunting in a _team_ was a god damn stupid idea. Too much noise, too much chatter. He did better on his own. The small two way radio they’d insisted on him carrying was in his bag, but he’d told them a whole lotta people better be dying before they called him on it. Unless it was Carol.

The woods relaxed him – always had. He liked the wide open space of them, combined with the ability to hide if needed. He liked that he didn’t have to talk to anyone here – liked the time to pick through his own thoughts as he quietly slipped between trees and stalked his prey – keeping a constant eye out for any walkers.

And really, he had a lot to process. They’d been running since Atlanta – no time to deal with any of that shit – and there was really a _lot_ of shit to deal with. It didn’t pay to dwell on any of it though, it was like he’d told Carol. They kept going. It was true even when they were staying still – they still had to move past it all.

She’d been quieter since Atlanta – hell since Terminus if he was being honest. She spoke less, smiled less, and seemed to constantly cart around this weight within her soul. Never saw it in her face or how she held herself – but he knew. Whatever had happened while she was gone had been awful. His chest ached at the idea of it – if anyone in this fucked up world didn’t deserve _one_ more shitty thing happening to them, it was Carol.

He had his own demons to battle – guilt about the prison, Hershel, Beth, even not going after Carol. If he’d actually _looked_ after the prison fell, didn’t insist on believing everyone dead, didn’t waste time on his own pity party… if he’d listened to Beth right away – looked then. Maybe he’d have found some of them. Maybe Carol. Maybe those girls. Beth wouldn’t have been taken. He pushed the thoughts of guilt away, focusing on Carol instead. It was how he’d survived on the road too – shadowing her, his own existence had narrowed down to the safety of the group and making sure Carol was okay.

He was able to lose himself for a bit in the cool air, the decayed leaves rustling under his feet as he crept along. By the time the sun was above him in the sky, he had an impressive string of game, ranging from rabbits to squirrels to a few grouse – he’d even managed to nab a goose. He could have kept going, but he found his feet leading him back through the woods, heading toward the safe zone.

It was almost noon when he turned in the animals, fidgeting as they tallied them, marking credits alongside his name for time worked. There wasn’t any money anymore, but they used a barter system. Every job earned credits for things – extra stuff they found on runs. But the housing and food was free, so long as you ate in the mess and did your job.

When he showed up at the apartment though, Carol was nowhere to be found. He huffed in irritation – the woman never stayed put when she was told – and washed up quickly before he walked back out to look for her.

Glenn was the first person he recognized, walking toward their building with a grin and a nod. “Daryl man, how’s it going?”

“Good enough. Hey – you seen Carol?”

“Left you already, huh? What’d you do?” Glenn grinned at him and Daryl scoffed, shaking his head. “All in good fun man, she had her meeting with the council this morning. I think I saw her at the clinic on my way back.”

“Yeah? Thanks,” Daryl walked away instantly, leaving a laughing Glenn behind him, hollering out goodbye after him. Daryl waved at him over his shoulder before he tromped along the dirt track that led to where the clinic was located. Carol was just coming down the stairs with Jo as he walked up, one of the council members – Dan or David or something – walked beside them.

“Daryl!” Carol smiled at him and he stopped on the bottom step, squinting up at her. She glanced to her left and right before she leaned down. He almost stepped back out of surprise as she swayed toward him. He held himself still though, and her hands curled over his shoulders as she leaned in and kissed him just once, her mouth soft and fleeting against his – but it was enough to make him feel like his heart was about to beat its way out of its cage and fall at her feet. His hands lifted, settling on her hips and he tried not to think of how perfectly they filled his palm as she stepped back.

“Daniel, you’ve met Daryl, right?” Carol stepped to the side, tugging him up to the porch and smoothly moving against his side as they faced the other two.

“Right, your husband. Nice to meet you. The council really enjoyed meeting Carol today, she’s going to be a fantastic addition to the community. You all are, really,” Daniel pumped Daryl’s hand and Daryl eyed the man quietly. He seemed nice enough, but something about the guy didn’t sit right with him. He let go once the man let out the slightest wince, and he stepped back, wrapping an arm around Carol’s waist, his palm pressed against her lower back.

“You’re too kind,” Carol smiled at him, but it was a tight smile that didn’t make her eyes crinkle or her cheeks plump like they usually did. Daryl make a noise of satisfaction – Carol clearly didn’t like this tool either.

“Carol’s going to be working with me,” Jo winked at Daryl, her dark eyes mischievous as she eyed him like she knew every fucking thing he was thinking. “And she chose me – had her pick, apparently!” Jo lifted her brows and tossed her long silver braid over her shoulder, her expression smug. “Quite the lady you’ve got there, Mr. Dixon.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed just as Carol protested.

“Oh stop it Jo,” she flushed and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. When he met her gaze, her smile widened, cheeks pulling up as she crinkled her nose at him. “Oh, whatever.”

“I should be going. It was lovely meeting you Carol – maybe I’ll see you more often. The council could always use good people…” Daniel spoke in the silence and Daryl’s grip tightened for a moment before he smirked at the guy, refusing to look away as Carol didn’t respond, simply smiled on. “Right. I’ll see you both around then. Welcome to the ASZ.” He smiled and nodded before taking his leave and Daryl turned to Carol, his expression questioning.

“Oh god,” she rolled her eyes, huffing a bit as she leaned in to him. “He’s fine. Just… got a vibe.”

“Yeah, the hitting on a married woman vibe,” Jo snorted, glaring after the man. “No manners. Kids these days,” she sighed and Daryl snorted. Jo turned her glare on him in response.

“Guy’s like forty. At least.”

“So are you young man,” Jo eyed him. “Like I said. Kids these days.”

“You talk like you’re old, and you ain’t.” Daryl grumbled. Jo was of an indeterminate age – he knew better than to ever hazard guesses regarding how old women were – but she had to be in her sixties at least – not _that_ old.

“You’re a sweet boy, Daryl Dixon,” Jo grinned at him, walking over and patting his cheek gently. “I’ll see you in three days, not a minute before, Carol. You shouldn’t have been out today!” Jo scolded Carol gently, patting her shoulder. “You two go on home. Will we see you at dinner tonight?” Carol nodded and Jo smiled. “Then you better nap first, missy.” With that, she waved and walked back through the doors and Carol stepped back from him, causing his hand to flutter uselessly behind her back for a moment. A beat later her hand slipped in to his as they started down the stairs, and he smiled to himself as they strolled back to their place.

“How’d it go?” He finally broke the silence with the mumbled words, almost afraid to break the peaceful silence that had settled over them. Her hand was small and cool in his and his thumb drifted over her skin repeatedly.

She shrugged and winced, shooting a glance at him. “It went well I think. I basically just told them what I did at the prison-”

“And they damn near wet themselves over how badass you are?” He leaned in to her, nudging her shoulder with his as she laughed brightly, clapping her free hand over her mouth. He felt warmth flood through his chest at the sound of it – there was nothing he loved more in this fucked up world than the sound of her laughter. She didn’t laugh out loud often – but he was always delighted when she did forget, just for a minute, and experience joy.

“Yeah, that’s me. Wanted by all, had by only _one_ ,” she grinned up at him, fluttering her lashes as she pouted slightly. Daryl stared at her for a moment before he looked away. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t even look at her too long – it him long to blurt out _everything_ he was thinking and feeling. Seeing her so light-hearted after months of barely seeing her smile, so weighed down with grief – he felt his heart tighten as he smiled down at the ground to the left of them.

“Stop,” he protested, but he squeezed her hand slightly as he looked away.

“Nope.” She beamed up at him before she leaned in to his side, her other hand stroking along his arm as she sighed. “You’re my favourite, pookie.”


	5. 050. snore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Naturally my muse chooses to start a huge task like this at the busiest time of year for me at work, lol.

**_050\. snore_ **

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Carol fidgeted as she paused in the middle of the living room, glancing over at him and away again.

“If I leave, the last thing you’ll do is nap. I’m liable to find you halfway across town trying to convince people to let you help with dinner or something,” he gave her a look that said clearly he wasn’t falling for that shit and she huffed out a little irritated sigh. “You’re just mad ‘cause you know I’m right.”

“I don’t need to be told to nap like a child,” she finally grumbled and he just looked at her with an arched brow.

“Yeah, but I bet you’re fucking tired ain’t you?” She didn’t respond and he narrowed his eyes at her, deciding to switch tactics. “Fine, don’t nap. Sit out here – read one of them books you brought back from Jo’s. I’ve been up since the fucking crack of dawn though, so I’m going to lay down for a bit.” He didn’t look at her as he turned toward the bedroom, but he did hear her low growl.

“That won’t work on me, Daryl Dixon!” She called after him, but he just waved and entered the bedroom. He set his crossbow down first, before stripping out of his vest, jacket, and flannel shirt. It was getting colder and layers were needed when hunting. Up north didn’t fuck around when it came to winter, and though he’d hunted in Northern Georgia before, he doubted what passed for winter there would fly up here. He glanced at the door, still hanging open, before he shucked his pants and two layers of socks before crawling between the sheets in just his shirt and boxers. His boots were by the door – he made sure to take them off, because though Carol had been joking about muddy footprints on her floor when they first saw the place, he took her seriously. Half the shit people joked about was actually an easy out – say something you mean and then laugh it off.

He punched the pillow on his side of the bed, squishing it and tucking it into her shoulder as he laid down. Unbidden, memories of her other jokes filtered through his mind – _kinda romantic, screw around?_ – and he opened his eyes fully, wondering why he’d never _listened_ then. He hadn’t been ready then, hadn’t considered himself an option for anyone, let alone _Carol_. She was – and he was – he growled in irritation and rolled over to lay on his back, one hand coming up to rest under his head as he studied the ceiling and listened to the muffled sound of her movements out in the main area.

Things could have been so much different if he’d just said fuck it back then. There was nothing he could do about that now, though.

“You’re not doing a very good job of napping,” her voice issued from the doorway dryly, and he glanced over at her with a shrug.

“Wound up,” he muttered and she giggled at that, causing him to flush. “Not like – stop.” She continued to laugh and he shook his head, looking back to the ceiling. “Thought you weren’t tired?”

Her giggles stopped at that and when he looked over, she was staring at him with narrow eyes. “I don’t want to hear a word about it,” she grumbled, and he could feel a smug grin on his face as she sighed and moved in to the room. “Close your eyes.”

He obliged her, but still observed, “You didn’t make me do this last night.”

“It was dark, Daryl, not the middle of the day!” She sounded scandalized and he chuckled as he listened intently to the rustle of her clothing, followed by the soft muffled thump of it hitting the floor.

“But you’re just gonna be in bed with me, anyway. Ain’t like you’re getting naked.” He offered, his eyes still shut and she didn’t answer him, the silence stretching long enough that he frowned. “You ain’t, right?”

When she laughed it was much closer, and he felt the mattress dip as she slid into the bed. He opened his eyes and looked over at her as she tucked the blankets around her shoulders. “I didn’t say open them,” she teased and he rolled his eyes, his gaze sliding over her blanket covered form, trying to figure out what exactly she had on under there. “I’m not naked.” She finally offered with a huff, and she pulled the blanket down to reveal the soft plaid of the flannel shirt he’d just taken off. He swallowed, his chest tight all of a sudden. He shifted, pulling his hand down to rub at his chest as he savored the weight of her in the bed. The damned thing just felt so much more comfy when she was in it, and considering they’d only slept in it twice before this, that was worrying.

“Hunting was quiet,” he finally spoke – his body tense with fear that he may do something idiotic like tell her how fucking good she looked in his shirt. “Got a good haul though,” he added. “Checked ‘em in.”

“Right. The barter system here, Jo was telling me,” Carol yawned, rolling to face him and he swore she somehow scooted closer because her hands were tucked under her pillow but he could feel the heat of them next to his left shoulder.

“I’ll do runs too, probably.” He mused as he stared at the ceiling and she hummed, her voice heavy with sleep. He glanced over but her eyes were closed, exhaustion lining her face. She shouldn’t have gone out today – but of course she would push herself. Get better, get contributing. He knew she was a stubborn ass. “Mostly hunt though,” he spoke in a hushed tone now and a soft snore was his only reply.

He snorted at that, listening to her deep, even breaths for a moment more before he finally gave in to his body’s straining, rolling over to face her. He wasn’t even that tired, but he’d wanted to lure her into napping, and he was glad it had worked. He could go do something else now that she had her face pressed in to her pillow, mouth hanging open and snoring gently. “Fuck, you’re an idiot,” he grumbled to himself. Who found shit like that fucking adorable? “My fucking weird ass apparently,” he mumbled as his eyes tracked over her face.

Asleep there was a lack of tension and worry in her face. Her frame sunk into the bed, her limbs laid heavy with sleep, and her face lost years as her skin smoothed and that ever present furrow in her brow disappeared. He wanted that to last. Wanted her to wake up and keep that smooth face, have the only lines on it come from one of her big grins that made her nose wrinkle and her eyes dance.

_Shit, you writing poetry now jackass?_

His hands twitched between them and he was just shifting closer when her hand dropped to lay in the middle of the bed, inches from his own. He stared at it for a moment, counting her breaths for a few beats before his skin _itched_ to move. He swallowed, his fingers stretched out until they brushed the back of her hand and she sighed, making him freeze. Once a beat had passed and she didn’t wake up, he reached the rest of the way, his hand curling around hers as he fought to not think of what her small hands were capable of. How much she’d had to carry in them.

Her fingers curled around his reflexively and something loosened in his chest when she did it – like he could breathe easier, deeper and better. Her palm was warm against his and he inched closer to the middle of the bed, his grip on her hand tightening.

He felt his body get warm and heavy, and he squeezed her hand, tugging it closer and higher until their joined hands were close to his face and he could breathe in the scent that clung to her skin – clean and generic soap, with the scent of her underneath there somewhere. Her hand twitched in his grasp and she stirred restlessly before moving closer, her knees brushing against his under the sheets. His heart squeezed and he closed his eyes tightly, trying not to get worked up about her fucking _knees_ of all things, Christ.

His throat felt clogged – shoved full of words he couldn’t get out – like he needed to cough or throw up – _anything_ to ease the pressure of everything he left unsaid with them.

He’d signed those papers in a split-second, rash decision. But lying in a bed – a fucking _bed_ – in the middle of the afternoon and feeling safe enough to take a god damned _nap_ , he had to wonder if this was it. He’d told her they ought to act like it was. The end of the road – the safe place Rick had been constantly seeking like a mad man all those months ago.

Maybe he hadn’t thought it through, but he’d sure as fuck thought about nothing else since the moment he’d written down her name next to his own. Maybe it was time to stop leaving all that shit unsaid – even though he had no fucking clue _how_ to say any of it without sounding like a jackass – maybe they wouldn’t get another chance like this one. And he’d already blown it during their last reprieve at the prison.

He swallowed, his throat constricting and seizing as he thought about everything he could say to her.

 


	6. 029. lies

**_029\. lies_ **

Dinner was held in an old fire hall – cleared out and with a kitchen off to the side that fire fighters used to cook in back before the world went to shit – it was a pretty good fit as a mess hall. Long tables, narrow – the kinds you’d see at school functions or church meetings – stood in four long rows, flanked by benches pushed end to end to accommodate everyone.

Daryl hated it – it was too cramped. Too close – too many bodies pressed in on each other and _way_ too much fucking noise. There was a constant stream of voices, never a silent second as people greeted each other, gossiped and ate. Thankfully the walk over had left Carol not willing to pick through the crowd, and she simply took his hand and slipped into seats at the end of a table by the door. Not that he was thankful she was hurting, but he liked being by the exit. Unfortunately it meant they didn’t bother looking for their group.

“Stay here, I’ll get yours too,” his voice was gruff as he leaned down and she nodded, her hand slipping from his as he walked over to the canteen-style opening in the wall. Food here was more plentiful then they’d had in a while, but it wasn’t anything amazing. Whatever fresh vegetable that was ready for picking that day – something that looked like orange potatoes today, apparently – a modest portion of mixed meat that depended on what the hunting crews brought in and a fresh bread roll. He grabbed two plates, carrying them back quickly to Carol, only to see that Jo had found her, and was sitting across from them, with Rick, Michonne and Carl to her left. Carol held Jude in her lap, bouncing the little girl gently as Rick ate as quickly as he could.

“We mill the grain ourselves. It’s no all-purpose white flour or anything – but it does make bread.” Jo was saying as he slid next to Carol with a nod, putting her plate in front of her.

“ _Bread_ ,” Michonne groaned in delight as she bit in to her roll with gusto.

“It’s _fresh_ food. Honestly it could be anything as long as it isn’t tinned,” Carol smiled warmly at Jo who nodded, splitting her own roll in half and putting one side on Carl’s plate and handing the other to Carol.

“Share with the baby,” she scolded and then looked at Daryl, who was peering down at his vegetable, trying to figure out what in the hell it was. “Squash, boy, now _eat_.”

“Never had it before,” he paused, but shrugged and started eating at a rate that matched Rick’s. A quarter of the way in he noticed Carol couldn’t eat because she was holding Jude, so he pushed his plate away – and plucked the baby from Carol’s lap. “Eat,” he nodded at her and she smiled at him, the corner of her mouth twitching as Jo greeted people who passed.

“So how long have you two been married?” Jo eyed them and Carl almost choked, but he took a drink of the water in front of him and quickly took another bite of food to cover. Carol was eating and Daryl was cradling an amused Judith, who was patting his face gently and smiling brightly. _Lie, lie, lie_ – his brain was shouting at him and he looked over at Carol with what he hoped was a convincing smile. _Best lie is nearly the truth baby brother_. He could hear Merle’s voice in his ear as he cleared his throat, looking down at Jude and getting an idea.

“‘Bout since she was born. We were at a prison – hadn’t cleared all of it fully yet. Walkers got in, we lost a few of our good friends that day. Jude’s Momma,” he paused for a minute, glancing over at Carl and Rick who both went still. “Sorry. Carol got separated. We thought she’d died, but I was searching for her-” He paused for a moment, looking down at Jude as he shook the weight of the memory away. “Her body. Found her alive.”

“Was a miracle,” Rick agreed with a nod, focusing on the woman next to him. Jo was listening intently and Daryl shrugged. “We’d dug an empty grave and everything – she was down there for days, hiding in a containment cell. When Daryl found her…” Rick trailed off and even Michonne was listening intently, as that was just prior to her showing up.

“Didn’t want to waste more time,” Daryl finally offered as Rick pushed his empty plate aside and reached over, tickling Judy before lifting her over to sit with him, letting her jam her fingers in the small plate of vegetables he’d brought over for her. She shoved her fingers in her mouth and squealed happily as Carol smiled, pushing Daryl’s plate closer and scooting closer to him on the bench.

“It’s as good a reason as any,” Jo nodded with a smile and one of the women up the table who’d been listening sighed.

“That’s _sweet_ ,” she offered and Carol inched closer to him, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

“So that means it’s almost your anniversary,” the woman offered with a smile, nodding at Judy. “She looks about what? Eight, nine months?”

“The hell are we talking about this for?” Daryl asked, shifting uncomfortably before he turned his attention to his plate of food. He hated the lying. He hated that he’d used the truth to do it. Because he _had -_ for one moment before he’d gotten the others, hovering over Carol in that cell just watching her, eager to see her face because she was _alive_ and _in front_ of him – he’d thought about it. Telling her that she was important. _More_ important than anyone else at that place. Telling her that he never ever wanted to go through that again – an empty grave and a clawing feeling in his chest that had ached, every minute, stronger and stronger until he’d found her in those tombs.

“That means she’ll be walking soon,” Carol offered, smiling across at the baby as she ground her squash up, smearing it in her hands and sucking on her fingers. “Rick get a spoon, she can’t learn to eat like that,” Carol laughed and glanced at Daryl who was currently plucking meat off of his own plate and sucking his fingers. “Wonder _where_ she gets it from.”

“Stop,” Daryl grumbled as she laughed and nudged his shoulder.

“I’m awful glad we found this place now, then,” Rick finally spoke, going along with Carol’s change of subject and Daryl could feel the tension bleed out of him as Jo focused on Judith.

“She’ll be running you off your feet in no time,” Jo leaned over, tickling the baby under the chin. Judith grinned, grasping Jo’s hand in her own as she smiled up at the older woman. “Won’t you little Miss Grimes?” Jo chuckled and glanced up. “We keep pretty accurate records here, you know. Have the year pinned down. And date, near enough. We’ll have to pick a birthday for her – for the records. Which reminds me, we never did complete _your_ records,” she looked across the table at Daryl and Carol. “Daryl put his birthdate down – ’72 wasn’t it?”

Daryl grunted and nodded and Carol gasped next to him. Everyone looked up and he groaned at the mischief dancing in her eyes. “I didn’t know that. How old does that make you?”

“Forty this year,” Jo supplied. “He didn’t know yours when he filled them out.”

“’67,” Carol admitted, wrinkling her nose as she looked at him. “Five years – aww I’m a _cougar_.” The table erupted in chuckles around them as Daryl flushed, shaking his head.

“Stop it,” he sighed as Carol placed a hand over her heart dramatically.

“All this time, and you were just a _boy_ ,” she started and he glanced at her, his brows lifted.

“Thought you said I was a man,” he pointed out and she flushed, slapping his chest lightly.

“Not in public, pookie,” she teased and he rolled his eyes, huffing as he finished off his food and grabbed her plate, stacking it on top of his neatly.

“You about done?”

“Yeah, your _man_ wants to take you home,” Michonne observed from across the table and Rick and Jo laughed as Daryl shook his head, taking their plates over to the washing bins, intent on leaving as soon as possible.

He heard laughter erupt again behind him and he huffed as he hovered near the door, watching Carol get up with a grin before she rounded the table, giving Judith a soft kiss on the head and squeezing Carl’s shoulder gently. She eventually made her way over to him with a wry smile. “Not even saying goodbye, Daryl, _rude_.”

“Boys’ll be boys,” he spoke in a deadpan voice and she giggled, looping her arm through his as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. He stilled, wanting to lean in to the contact but his body frozen for a moment until he remembered – they were selling an image here. So his hand lifted to her hip and he did lean in to her, taking note of the way her breathing changed – quicker and shallower. He glanced over at the table, narrowing his eyes at Michonne’s smug smile as he nodded to Rick carefully. Once they got outside he instantly felt better – the fresh air hitting him. “Wanna walk for a bit?”

“Can we? I feel like I’ve been cooped up in one place or another ever since we got here,” Carol smiled up at him, her arm still tucked in to his and her weight leaning against him. “You can show me what I missed this morning. Maybe walk the wall?” He nodded in agreement and they were quiet for a while, walking the perimeter without purpose, their steps slow and wandering.

“Was that okay? What I told them?” He rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck as she looked up at him and nodded.

“It was a good lie,” she spoke softly, her teeth pulling on her bottom lip as she looked everywhere but at him. Something about the way she wouldn’t look at him made him want to blurt out that _none_ of it had been a lie. “Using our actual history, I mean. It’s easier to keep track of.”

“Wasn’t all a lie,” his mouth moved before he could stop himself and she looked up at him, her eyes wide. “It was a miracle. Seems to happen round you a lot.”

“Not a miracle,” she finally offered as they strolled in the evening light. The stars above the wall were bright and gave a sense of open space, despite the fact that they were walking a contained area. “Nine lives, right?”

“Yeah well, you’re running through them way too quick for my liking. Be nice if you quit it for a while,” he shrugged as he spoke, and hesitated for a moment before he lifted his other hand and placed it over hers on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Near as I figure, you scare a few years off of me every time you do it – so at this rate you gotta be at least a decade younger,” he teased her and she laughed, moving in closer to him as they wandered.

“Nope,” she spoke pertly, and there was just enough light left for him to see the sparkle in her eyes as she grinned up at him. “You’re not taking away my official cougar status, Mr. Dixon. Hey – when is your birthday? Could be closer to six years,” she offered with a grin.

“Or closer to four,” he pointed out and she pouted up at him. “March. The fifteenth. Mama always said that was a bad sign – but I was two months early. Old man put her in early labour,” he laughed humourlessly at that and she fidgeted, her hand slipping from his arm before she stepped in closer, sliding her hand down his forearm until her fingers tangled with his.

“Mine’s February seventh – huh, closer to four it is then. You ruin all my fun, Dixon.” She teased him lightly, stealing the heaviness from the air around them as her hand squeezed his. He felt her palm fit into his like she was made to be there – like his hand had been empty this whole time and he’d never even realized it. “Birthdays – it’s a weird thing to think about keeping track of isn’t it? Nowadays?”

“Fuck, I barely kept track before all this. Not like Merle’d remember – ‘specially not when he was half outta his head. Ain’t nobody else who cared.” They fell into silence for a while and Carol sighed softly. “What?”

“Just thinking. My last birthday before all this – Ed never really paid much attention and he’d gone off for the week, hunting. Sophia was eleven and taking home ec in school. She baked me a cake. It was the most god-awful thing – bits of shell in it, pockets of flour. The icing was runny and too sweet – it was the best birthday I’d ever had. Just her and I,” she smiled wistfully. “I miss her so much it’s like I can’t remember how to breathe sometimes.”

He swallowed heavily, thinking of the little girl and how she’d always watched him around that quarry – even when he’d scowled back – like she wasn’t a bit scared of him. “I’m sorry,” he finally offered and she paused, shaking her head and tugging him to a stop with her hand. “I shoulda looked harder-”

“Daryl, _no_.” She breathed the words out, stepping in closer to him as she smiled sadly. “You did everything you could. More than that – I should have-”

“Stop it,” he spoke firmly and she stared up at him. He pulled her closer, until he could wrap his arms around her, hugging her tight to him like he had that day in the woods outside of Terminus. “You loved her. You thought it was safe – you did the best you could Carol. Lotsa things shouldn’t have happened that day – we shouldn’t have left you all on your own. Should have kept closer. But it wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either,” she breathed the words out against his neck and he gripped her tighter, nodding. They stood still for a moment longer, clinging to each other until her breathing slowed back down, her weight pressing in to him more fully and he crushed her against him tighter, suddenly scared to let go. There were things they still hadn’t said – spoken of out loud, but he could feel the weight of them in her small frame. “Things turn out the way they’re supposed to,” she finally spoke softly, breaking the spell as she pulled back. “Maybe we have to believe that, especially now.”

He didn’t see how she could feel that way, but in searching for her daughter he’d felt like a good person for the first time in his life. _Worth_ something. And maybe she was right, in a way. But he’d still change it all if he could – save that little girl for her, keep them both safe and with him if he could. He didn’t say that out loud though – because she knew it anyway. “Let’s get back – it’s getting dark. I think we’ve gone far enough tonight.”

She nodded in agreement, stepping back and lacing her fingers through his again. He tightened his grip, wanting to haul her back the minute she stepped away, and they turned toward home, the silence falling around them comfortably as they found their way to a main path, hand in hand.

He hoped everything worked out the way it was supposed to, he thought as they moved silently together. Because her hand fit his like a glove, and he couldn’t help but think – _this_ was part of the way it was supposed to be.


	7. 042. study

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So failed at this prompt oops.

**_042\. study_ **

They fell into a routine after those first few days. He woke early every morning to join the hunting crews at the gates – daily hunts were coordinated so no one crossed another hunter’s zone. For one day hunts there was usually the option to hunt on your own, and Daryl always took it when he could. But sometimes they were partnered up, when larger game had been spotted in areas. They needed all the meat they could get - he knew that soon overnight trips would be planned – they had to stockpile for winter, and it was breathing down their necks as it was.

Carol was up with him every morning. She didn’t need to be at the clinic until after breakfast, but she liked to eat with him, usually making something over their fireplace and enjoying the quiet. He was given a packed lunch for hunts, and then they always went to the mess hall for dinner.

He both loved and hated that. He hated the noise, and the nosy people, but he found that he enjoyed the way Carol was more demonstratively affectionate when others were around. She seemed almost always constantly aware of maintaining the image that they were happily married. And he let her, because fuck if he could work up his courage to do anything when they were alone – so he drank in those touches, hand holding and soft kisses like a man who was dying of thirst.

Today there had been several deer spotted along a trail in the woods about fifteen miles west of the camp – so he and Terry had been partnered to go after them. Terry was a good hunter – quiet, didn’t talk much. Hell Daryl didn’t even know the man’s last name – but he was a good tracker and he and Daryl hunted well together. The man had to have been in his late sixties – he didn’t say much but when he did, it was usually worth listening to.

“Looks like a group,” Terry was crouching by the ground, studying the prints in the soft mud there. A slight warm spell had held off the frost – some odd burst of indian summer favouring them all. It was good for the gardens, good for the hunting too. “What’d you think?”

Daryl peered down at the tracks, eying the depth of the marks for a moment before he looked up. “Looks like two bucks. Some does. Could be a good haul,” he glanced over at Terry who nodded, standing and pushing back his ever present ball cap to scratch his forehead.

“Think we should just aim for the bucks if we can.” Terry finally looked over at Daryl, who nodded in agreement. “We’ll be needing meat next year too, I reckon. Come on,” he lead the way down the trail, surprisingly silent and swift footed for a man his age. They were still fairly far off the deer, so less effort was made to remain silent as they walked along the trail, pausing every now and again to take note of broken brush, bark pulled off trees and animal droppings. Daryl still managed to bag near a dozen rabbits while they tracked the larger game. “Met your wife yesterday.” Terry finally spoke out of the blue, and Daryl grunted in surprise.

“Yeah? You at the clinic?”

“Shoulder was bothering me – all that rain we had two days ago. I’m fucking old,” Terry shrugged matter-of-factly and Daryl huffed out a laugh under his breath. “Plus I’ve had my eye on Jo since I first got here. Might be looking for excuses.”

“Jo? Thought she was married,” Daryl spoke with surprise and Terry shook his head.

“Naw. Her husband got bit in the beginning.  She had to put him down, I hear. They’d been married for just over forty years. She still ain’t ready. But I’m patient, and that woman sure is worth it. She’s a firecracker.” Terry chuckled and Daryl frowned, before he shrugged in acceptance. He figured he’d be thinking the same thing about Carol twenty years from now, god willing – why the hell not? “She’s a pretty one. Your wife I mean. Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he noticed Daryl fidgeting silently next to him and Daryl nodded in appreciation. “She just seems nice is all.”

“She is nice,” Daryl affirmed as he lifted his crossbow to take aim at a rabbit a few yards away. His finger hovered over the trigger and he breathed in before letting the bolt fly right through the small animal’s head. “Til she ain’t. Carol’s a good woman, but she can be fierce when she needs to be.”

“Best kind, especially now a days. You don’t want the soft ones. Everyone has their skills, but finding a woman that can survive this world – that’s something else entirely.”

“Fuck man, ain’t like I picked her out of a bunch. Just… happened.” He shrugged and then frowned as they walked to pick up his kill. “Not just _happened_ , I mean. Ain’t like if it was anyone else it would have been them, you know? It was just _her_.”

Terry let out a laugh as he shook his head, watching as Daryl pulled his bolt out, cleaning it and then tucking the rabbit is his game bag, already weighed down.  He didn’t comment on what Daryl had said, and oddly it made Daryl feel compelled to talk _more_.

“Met her right after it all went to shit. Her husband got bit too. But he was a worthless bastard. Then we lost her daughter. I lost my brother. I don’t know, at some point she just… became what I was surviving for. Stupid, really,” he shook his head and Terry looked at him thoughtfully.

“For some people, this whole shit storm was the end of their world. But some of us knew the world was shit long before this all happened. And for them, it wasn’t an ending at all – just a beginning. Maybe it was like that for you and your wife – a new beginning. Start over. I’m sorry to hear about her little girl though. Me – I was alone before all this. Never married – never stopped drinking long enough to realise how fucking shitty my life was. I haven’t had a god damn drop since the world ended. Start over, right?” Terry looked at Daryl and he nodded, before Terry went perfectly still, his eyes fastened behind Daryl. He gestured over Daryl’s shoulder and Daryl turned silently, spotting the two bucks through the trees in front of them. He lowered his bow, stepping on the stirrup as quietly as possible and quickly reloading it.

Conversation died as they split on the trail, both moving toward the clearing, weapons raised and ready.

~*~*~*~*~

“You’re late,” Carol scolded him as he stepped in to their apartment, toeing off his boots. She was in one of the chairs by the fire, thick book open in her lap as she scrunched her face up at him.

“Got a buck. Took a while to field dress him before we could drag him in. Big fucker too. You go eat yet?” She shook her head at his question, nodding over to the small table that held two plates.

“I left the clinic late – one of the pregnant ladies had a scare – thought I wouldn’t be home at all tonight. She’s gonna deliver soon though,” Carol nodded down at the book in her hands. “I’m reading up on it – just in case Jo isn’t around when it happens. I stopped and got us plates wrapped up on my way back.”

Daryl nodded, humming in acknowledgement. “I’ll grab a shower real quick.”

“Get a hot one, Daryl, please. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been giving me all your warm water rations.” He opened his mouth to argue, but she shot a glare at him and he heaved a sigh.

“Fine,” he muttered as he tiptoed toward their bedroom, trying not to get dirt on anything as he gathered a threadbare towel and fresh clothes before heading to the washroom. They had twenty minutes of hot water every second day. Ten minutes for him, ten minutes for Carol – but he’d been just getting cold showers. Like it mattered to him in the long run, and frankly, cold showers were far better for preparing himself to sleep next to her every night.

The water was lukewarm but it felt like heaven as he stood beneath the spray, washing himself as fast as possible and just standing there for another minute or two, before he shut the water off with a sigh, shaking his head before he stepped out of the shower and grabbed the worn towel waiting for him. When he got back to the living room Carol was setting her book aside and greeting him with a smile. “Maggie came by today,” she offered as he sat down, picking up the plate she had set aside for him and diving in quickly.

“What for?” He watched as she picked at her food, her smile sliding off her face as she bit her lip.

“She was in with Jo for a while. I don’t know why. But she stopped to see me on her way out. We… talked. About-” she glanced over at him before looking back to the fire quickly, “Beth.” He felt his chest tighten as she spoke, and she didn’t look up as she dragged her fork through the green beans on her plate. Carol hated green beans with a passion, but she ate what was given to her – just like any of them did.

“Here,” he sat forward, taking her plate and exchanging her beans for his potatoes. “There. Fucking eat,” he grumbled and she looked up at him as he handed her plate back. “What’d you talk about?”

“We don’t have to – I just-” She started and stopped, taking a bite of her now acceptable veggies.

“Carol.” He sighed and looked at her steadily. “You wanna talk about it. So talk.”

“It’s just Maggie hasn’t talked to me much, since it all happened, you know?” Carol finally spoke, and he nodded, listening. “I mean she’s not talked much to anyone really. I always thought maybe… she felt like I shouldn’t have walked out of there instead of Beth, you know?”

He didn’t speak, not sure what to say. He’d felt much the same – like Maggie would blame him for it all – losing Beth in the first place. But he’d never talked about it, he’d simply kept going. Pushing on. Left it behind – just like Beth’d said.

“Which was stupid of me, really. Maggie wouldn’t – she just doesn’t have that in her you know? To be cruel like that. Like me,” Carol blew out a breath and he made a noise of disagreement, a growl deep in his throat that had her looking up in surprise.

“You ain’t like that, either, Carol.”

“I was – I did – I blamed Rick when Sophia first… I blamed him for coming out of those woods when she didn’t. It’s not important. We talked – she wanted to know – what happened in the hospital. What Beth said when I woke up.” Daryl shifted uncomfortably, finishing what was on his plate and putting it aside as he leaned forward, his elbows digging in to his knees sharply.

“What’d you tell her?”

“You never asked about that,” she offered instead of an answer. “Didn’t you wonder?”

“I wonder a shit ton things about you lady, but I figure you’ll talk when you’re ready to talk.” He startled when her hand gripped his suddenly, her fingers biting in to his skin as he looked up. Her gaze was fastened on his face, her plate cast aside as she leaned forward.

“I told her about how happy Beth was when I told her everyone had made it. That Maggie had found Glenn, that we’d all found each other. I told her she’d been happy to see me, that she saved my life. She did you know. She snuck drugs to me – and she shouldn’t have. She was so happy that you made it. Found Rick and the others.” She exhaled suddenly and her whole face seemed to collapse as she continued. “I didn’t tell her a lot though. The way the guards treated the patients and wards – they were like chattel to them. Beaten when they didn’t obey. Or worse.” She went quiet then, and he watched her face intently, saw the shadows there and he wanted to chase them away.

“That’s on me,” he finally spoke, his hand gripping hers as she shook her head emphatically. “It is. Got complacent. Got sloppy. Shoulda been watching – we knew there ain’t no safe place left.”

“Daryl, it wasn’t on you. She could have been taken anytime. You did the best you could. Got her out when you thought you might not get out yourself – you did the best you could,” she repeated, shifting closer as she lifted a hand to stroke at his hair, smoothing it back from his face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel badly. Just Maggie seemed happy to talk about her, she smiled and laughed and invited us to dinner this week. I think she’s moving past it, finally. I’m proud of her.”

“Always taking care of everyone else,” Daryl finally sat back, muttering to himself more than her, and her hand held his fast, refusing to let him pull back all the way.

“Well I got you taking care of me, so I don’t need to worry about myself,” she teased him gently, before she sighed and looked at the fire.

“I worry about you,” he finally offered and she nodded with a soft smile.

“You don’t have to,” she pointed out, “I’m okay. Still here.”

“Don’t know how to stop,” he shrugged and she laughed gently. “What?”

“I don’t know how to stop worrying about you either. Guess we’re a matched set,” she smiled again, a little brighter as she pulled her chair closer to his, until they were side by side and she settled in to his side with a sigh. “Tell me about your day, it’ll distract me from my headache.”

“You need your meds? I can get ‘em,” he offered, shifting to get up but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not that bad. Just – tell me about your deer.”

He frowned, eying her before he sat back, letting her put her head on his shoulder. He felt like his heart was beating harder the moment the weight of her sank in to him. Louder – how could she not hear that? “Buck. Ten point – Terry was with me. Guess what he told me today?” She hummed in inquiry and he chuckled. “He got the hots for Jo, you believe that? We oughta have ‘em both over some night.”

“Regular cupid, you are,” Carol laughed softly and he shook his head sharply.

“Naw. Just… everybody could use a friend right?” He stared at the flame, thinking about the old man and what he’d said about his life before the turn. He nodded, looking down at Carol with a soft smile. “He could use a friend.”

“Jo?” she asked with a sly grin and he huffed, shifting his body closer to hers, ignoring the arm of the chair digging in to his ribs.

“Me. _You_.” He offered and she looked up at him, pursing her lips as she studied his face.

“Thought we were keeping to ourselves for a while – till we were sure of the place?” She asked with an arched brow and he shook his head.

“There’re still good people out there,” he spoke softly. “Maybe they’re some of them.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, before shifting and sitting up, stretching her arms above her head as she glanced at the book on the floor next to her feet. “I’m not gonna get any more of that read tonight – I’ll talk to Jo tomorrow.” She tugged on his arm until he sat up. “Ask her to dinner.” The corner of her mouth twisted up and he smiled in response, his mouth twitching. “Happy, cupid?”

“Stop,” he grumbled as they stood, her moving to clear the plates and cutlery to the kitchen while he put the fire out.

“I don’t know – might suit you better than pookie. All this match making. You even have the bow,” her giggle was contagious and he felt a lightness invade his chest as he shook his head.

“Stop, or the next ass I put an arrow in is gonna be yours,” he grumbled as they moved toward their room, bumping in to each other as they walked side by side.

“You don’t gotta go and do that, cupid. I’m already yours,” she laughed as she slipped in to the bathroom, and he moved in to the bedroom, huffing as he laid out on his side of the bed, a full grin on his face.


	8. 070. temperamental

**_070\. temperamental_ **

“Come on, I need to go gather some supplies for the clinic anyway. _Daryl_ ,” she sighed as she looked at him and he huffed, dragging a hand down over his face. Finally her pleading look morphed into belligerence and he heard Jo chuckle in to her tea cup next to him on the bench. He shot a glare at her and she shrugged.

“You’re the one in trouble, mister.”

“I don’t need your _permission_ to leave Daryl,” Carol had leaned back from her dinner plate and crossed her arms, glaring at him with steel in her gaze.

“I didn’t say you did. But you still get those headaches and you’re only on light duty at the clinic. Someone else can go gather the supplies-”

“ _I’m_ going,” Carol’s voice dropped, getting quieter in that soft, scary way she had about her. Carol didn’t get pissed like most people – she didn’t yell and she didn’t lose her shit ever. She just got quieter and quieter until she was saying nothing to you at all – and that was when you either backed the fuck up or got the hell out of the way. “You can either take me with you, or I’ll find another one of the hunters to take me.”

“I hear Terry is good to work with,” Jo offered with an unrepentant grin ad Daryl huffed and glared at her again. “He’s taken David out to gather herbs a time or two.”

“Probably hoping it would be you,” Daryl muttered and Jo arched her brow in question as he shook his head, turning back to Carol who still had him nailed down with her gaze. “Fuck, _fine_ , I’ll take you out. But we see any trouble, you let me handle it. You god damn near _died_ out there, Carol.” He hunched forward, leaning his elbows on the table as he glanced left and right – not many people were left in the mess hall but Glenn and Maggie were a few seats down and Glenn was covering a smile with his hand while he tried to look serious. Little prick. “I just can’t lose you.” He finally muttered in Carol’s direction and her face instantly softened, her jaw relaxing and her posture easing as she looked at him.

“The harvest spots are right along the trap line Daryl. You’ve been hunting for days in those woods – how many walkers have you seen? I’ll be fine. I’m good – I’m practically back to 100% - aside from the occasional headache,” she waved that off like it was nothing and he snorted. Some of those headaches could be blindingly painful for her – he hated when she got them, and hated it more when she would refuse the meds Jo had left her. Sure it was weed, but it was what they had available. Weren’t no room for people to have stupid hang-ups about shit like that anymore. “And you’re with me. It will be fine.”

“No sleeping in then,” he finally grumbled in irritation as she laughed brightly, all smiles now that she’d gotten her way. As usual.

“Well then, don’t keep me up late,” she teased him with a grin and he flushed before he heard choking to his right and he saw Glenn, trying to drink water and not kill himself with the eggs he’d just inhaled.

“TMI, guys, jeeze,” he finally gasped out and Maggie smiled at him fondly as Carol giggled loudly, a hand going up to her face.

“Not even nearly – after all the shit we had to listen to in that prison? That shit _echoes_ Glenn,” Daryl shot back and Maggie turned red, suddenly intent on the food left on her plate.

“And on that note, I’m off to my wonderful room. Far from any of your fornication dens,” Jo stood, speaking in a scandalized tone as Carol choked back another laugh and Glenn sunk lower in his seat, his face firmly buried in his hands. Once she’d wandered away, Maggie scooted along the bench toward them, forcing Glenn to follow.

“Could you _really_ hear-” She started in a hushed voice and Carol rubbed a hand along the young woman’s back, hugging her to her side.

“We really could, honey, I’m sorry.” Carol shot her a sympathetic smile and Maggie flushed further.

“Oh god, poor Daddy,” Maggie groaned and everyone froze for a moment. Hershel and Beth were not names mentioned casually in conversation in any capacity – but particularly never around Maggie. Carol broke the silence by chuckling.

“One day, about a month in to our stay at the prison – your dad knew I was the one that organized the supply lists for runs, he came to see me with his supply list. I was dispersing the items to the team lists and had to stop and ask him about one item. He looked at me straight on and said, ‘Carol – if I don’t get those earplugs before their wedding, I’m gonna show Glenn a whole new purpose for my shotgun.’ I just about died laughing. But I got Daryl to get him those earplugs,” Carol stopped speaking and looked over to see Maggie, her eyes swimming with a big grin on her face.

“God – I miss him so much. Every day,” Maggie laughed the words out and Carol hugged her tighter, pressing her cheek to the woman’s head.

“We all do. Some things are no different than before, Maggie. We carry them with us – everywhere we go,” Carol glanced down at her own wrist, to the hair ties there that she always carried, even though she never needed them for herself.

Daryl glanced at Glenn to see him watching them with amazement, and he grunted, standing and gathering his and Carol’s plates before he nudged Glenn hard in the shoulder. “Come on,” he gestured the other man to follow him, and Glenn stood too, picking up his and Maggie’s plates before he shot a smile at Maggie, who looked up at him. “We’ll meet you outside,” Daryl offered to Carol, who nodded.

After the plates were dropped off, Daryl dragged Glenn outside with him as he lit a smoke, inhaling deeply and staring up at the darkening sky. “Man – she never talks about them anymore, you know? Carol is… amazing,” he breathed the words out and Daryl hummed, privately agreeing with him.

“She wanted to have you guys over,” he offered gruffly. “Just you and Maggie – for – I dunno. Breakfast or dinner or something.”

“I think that’d be great. As awesome as this place has been – it leaves not a lot of time for us to see each other, you know? We’re a family – all of us. And that was just – Carol made Maggie smile about her Dad. She’s been having such a hard time with it all.” Glenn shook his head and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Especially now…” he paused, looking startled for a moment as he glanced at Daryl nervously, but Daryl let it drop.

“Can’t fucking blame her. She lost more’n any of us – in such a short time. I mean we all lost them – but that was her blood. It’ll take time. Gotta just let her go at her own pace.” Daryl shrugged and glanced at the door to see Maggie and Carol strolling toward them, arm in arm. He put his cigarette out, not even a third finished, and watched the relief wash over Glenn’s face.

“Mags, Daryl just said he and Carol wanted to do dinner one night. Just us four,” he spoke to his wife and Maggie smiled softly, looking at Carol.

“Yeah! I mean it’ll be picnic style on our floor and whatever we can cook over the fire, but hell – like we aren’t used to that, right?” She grinned and Maggie nodded, pausing to hug Carol tightly.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly, pulling back to include Daryl in her gaze. “Both of you. We’d love that. I’ll stop by the clinic tomorrow afternoon and we’ll set up a time, okay?” She smiled and took Glenn’s hand and Daryl and Carol stood there, watching them walk down the street with a wave. They never went straight back to their place after dinner – they always opted for an evening stroll – as long as the weather allowed it.

“If she ain’t pregnant, I’ll eat my hat,” Daryl offered as they watched the younger couple walk away. Carol laughed, nudging him with her shoulder.

“You don’t wear a hat,” she teased and she eyed him. “Can’t you just eat that hair instead?”

“You saying she ain’t?” he glanced at her and she smiled, shrugging.

“They’ll tell us when they’re ready if she is. I just really want you to get a haircut,” she laughed and pushed his hair out of his face as he scowled at her.

“Stop,” he grumbled as they started to walk toward the perimeter.

“Don’t know how you can see the squirrels or the trees,” she observed with a laugh, and he rolled his eyes, his hand slipping down to take hers as he hid behind his hair and smiled when her fingers laced through his.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~

She was stealthy, he’d give her that. She stepped carefully behind him as they wandered along the trap line – her gathering useful herbs while he checked and reset traps, occasionally stopping and wandering off the path with his crossbow raised as he stalked other game.

When he got back, she was using a large hunting knife to peel bark from a willow tree, a walker crumpled on the ground at her feet. “Jesus, why didn’t you call for me?” He moved faster, trying to calm the racing of his heart as she smiled over her shoulder and stripped a particularly long piece off of the tree.

“It was fine, Daryl. Just one. I have my knife _and_ my gun. What is wrong with you?” She frowned over at him and he found himself asking the same question. What the fuck was wrong with him? He knew she could take care of herself – hell, she’d saved his ass more times than he could count. But being in this place, with its walls and gates and guards and guns – something about it drew him in. Lured him. Not for him – but the concept of her behind those walls. _Safe_. Somehow that had become the single most important idea – Carol’s safety. Even on the road before they got here. Especially then. If he could pinpoint it, he thought as he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, it was after Terminus. After he _had_ lost her – but never in the way he’d thought he would. She’d been taken away from him by someone he’d trusted – and those days between the fall of the prison and Terminus – those had been some of the darkest days he could ever remember. Even in the face of Beth’s relentless hope and cheer – she’d kept him barely hanging on and then look what’d happened after he’d lost her too. He’d had nothing to keep him going. No Beth to protect. No Carol to – no _Carol_. “Are you okay?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts and he grunted in response.

“M’fine. I just…” he wanted to say worry but she grinned before he could.

“Hover?” She offered, stepping over the body of the walker in order to move closer to him. Her hand reached for his arm, her fingers curling around his bicep as she squeezed gently. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” she offered quietly and he stared back at her, a million words on the tip of his tongue, all of them refusing to make the leap past his lips.

“I know you can handle yourself,” he offered instead, pushing all other thoughts aside as she tilted her head, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Just – you’d do it all if you could and I know that. Just want you to... let me shoulder some things, you know?” Her eyes widened and she shook her head faintly – she really didn’t know. Didn’t know why he wanted to that or why he would even offer. But then she’d never really had someone try before – and that was partly his own fault. He should have stepped up so long before this.

She was silent for a moment and he shifted closer, inch by inch, until his toes nudged her boots and she startled, pulled out of her own thoughts and stepping back so quickly, she almost tripped on the body that she’d forgotten was behind her.  He reached for her, his hands grasping her elbows as he held her – too tight really, his fingers would probably leave bruises, but he didn’t relax his grip until she’d gained her footing again. “Uh, shit – sorry. I forgot – there’s a mint patch up ahead. And the elderberry bush – berries are probably the last ones we’ll be able to pick this year.” She babbled nervously in a voice entirely unlike her and he frowned.

An awkward, strange tension hung in the air for a moment, but finally he nodded and released her. Sometimes he wondered – if all of her teasing, all of her jibes were really just a defense mechanism. He’d always thought it was on him to get there – be ready for this. For _them_. But when he stepped too close and she flirted outrageously to hide the look that flitted across her face he wondered if they hadn’t been waiting on her all along.

He watched her walk ahead, trying not to pay too much attention to the way the new pants she’d acquired clung to her ass. Hell, he wasn’t _dead._ He found the idea a surprisingly okay one. If it scared her – this intimacy that seemed to grow at an exponential rate between them – he could wait. He could wait until she was ready. “I saw some basil the other day,” he finally jogged a bit to catch up with her – better if she couldn’t feel him staring at her ass so blatantly. “Just over by the second trap line. We could maybe go there too?” He was finding excuses, really. As much as he loved that she had to stay so close to him for show back at camp – he thrilled more when she did the same things when they were alone. It meant more then, because it was just for them.

“That’d be great,” she glanced over at him with a smile and they moved through the fading woods, careful not to rustle the dead leaves that carpeted the forest floor too much. Eventually her gait matched his and she started to sway in to him, her shoulder brushing his occasionally. He had to physically resist the urge to take her hand each time it happened. The trap line was completely empty the rest of the way, but he crawled around in a patch of fresh mint with her, helping her pluck the leaves and ignoring her scolding when he popped a few in his mouth to chew. Their hands smelled strongly of the oil when they plucked what was left of the berries from the clump of bushes they moved to next. She wrapped each thing in separate cloths, keeping them organized in her bag as they chatted about possible dates for dinner with Maggie and Glenn.

When it came time to lead her through the woods toward the secondary trap line, he took her hand without thinking, lacing their berry stained fingers together as they walked – not even taking notice until he realized how quiet she’d gotten.  “Shit, sorry,” he moved to pull his hand back but her fingers tightened around his, trapping him.

“No, it’s fine.” She smiled up at him and he squeezed her hand gently, wanting to say something about how much he liked touching her. How much he liked when she touched him. Really between their respective issues, he knew there was so much room for mistaken intent and misplaced caution with them, but he wanted to go carefully. “Daryl, I-” A high pitched sound reached them and she paused, frowning. It sounded like an animal in pain – wounded in a trap most likely and he grimaced as they turned back toward the direction they’d been headed.

“Come on. Must’ve caught something – lets go take care of it.” The agonizing sound grew louder and louder as they approached, and when they came on the trap line there were no less than three walkers stumbling through the brush toward the trap while the yelps grew louder, interspersed with sharp barks.

“Is that a dog?” Carol frowned, letting him go, her hand already moving to her belt to tug out her knife with ease. He lifted his bow and took one walker down quickly, causing the other two to turn to them – alerted to the idea of a bigger dinner. Carol strode forward as he re-loaded the bow quickly, holding one arm up to push the walker back as she twisted and drove her knife forward in to its eye. He took out the final walker that was stumbling too close to her, and they both turned to see the smallest, scruffiest looking dog he’d ever seen. It was fucking impossible to tell what colour the thing was, but it was no bigger than a puppy, long hair all matted and full of fucking dirt and god knew what else.

“No it’s a fucking rat,” Daryl grumbled as the dog stopped barking when they moved closer. Leaves rustled around it as it shook and whimpered, and he knelt beside it carefully, trying to find where it was caught. “Jesus fuck – its back leg – chewed the thing half off,” he muttered as he inspected the damage the thing had done to itself in its terror to escape.

Carol shushed the small thing, reaching for its head to distract it while he cut the trap line quickly. “Looks like part Chihuahua,” she offered and he snorted, staring down at the weak little thing helplessly.

“Should we… put it down?” He offered and Carol gasped, turning to him and slapping his shoulder sharply.

“No!”

“Carol, the thing is weak as fuck. Chewed half its leg off – I think it may be missing an eye – jesus. It ain’t gonna make it,” he offered gently and she scrunched her face up at him, glaring sharply as she tossed her bag aside, stripping out of her coat and then pulling her flannel shirt off, leaving her in nothing but a thin tank top. “Fuck, the hell are you doing? It’s freezing out here!” He griped and she shoved him aside, scooping up the little dog and wrapping it up tightly in her shirt and she cradled it to her body, trying to warm it up. The dog whimpered pitifully as she tried to put her jacket back on one handed, glaring at him after a few aborted attempts.

“Little help?” She asked and he jerked in to action, slipping her coat over her arms as she switched the little thing from one hand to the other. “Come on, we’ve gotta move fast,” she stood, leaving him to pick up her bag and try not to notice the way blood and mud were seeping through her shirt.

“Carol… it probably won’t make it,” he tried to be gentle when he pointed it out and she just glared at him fiercely.

“It will make it. It _will_ but not if we waste time arguing about it! We can take him to Jo. She can do something – come on!” She actually stomped her foot, glaring at him as she cradled the small bundle to her chest. “Daryl! _Please_ ,” she pleaded then, pinning him with those big blue eyes and he stared at her before sighing heavily and shouldering her bag along with his own as he stood.

“Fine,” he finally spoke and he was about to tell her not to get attached – even if it made it to camp, it sure as hell didn’t look like it’d survive the fucking night – but her smile when she took his hand with hers, pulling him along with her as they walked so quickly they were practically jogging through the woods, stopped him from even speaking the words. “You’re one lucky rat,” he grumbled to the bundle in her other hand as she squeezed his hand in hers, her face full of hope.

“Thank you.”


	9. 077. luck

**_077. luck_ **

“I’m not a vet,” Jo spoke as she entered the room where he and Carol had been waiting, Carol gripping his left hand tightly as she fidgeted next to him, constantly looking at the closed door to the surgical room. Jo had refused to let her in at all, much to Carol’s irritation. They both looked up at her words and Carol’s grip tightened, causing him to lean back hesitantly. His right arm was stretched out behind her on the seat and he paused only a moment before he moved it, wrapping it around her shoulders and squeezing gently – just in case it was bad news, he told himself.

“What does that  _mean_?” Carol asked in a low voice as Jo placed her hand son her hips and stared at them.

“I put him under to the best of my ability – don’t know how he’s going to react to human drugs for that. We had to wash him and shave him down on all his legs so he looks a bit ridiculous. Cleared the area around his face too – looks like a fucking lion now. He’s lost one eye completely – I cleaned it out and stitched it up. Leg was past saving – he’d gotten it tangled up in the snare and he chewed it damn near off in his panic to get free. Not walkers – he did it to himself, trying to escape – poor bastard.”

“But he’s okay?” Carol asked with a small, hopeful smile twisting her mouth as she looked up at Jo, who huffed.

“If you can call one-eyed, three-legged and may not come out of the sedation  _okay_ , then yes. And he has to avoid infection because I may genuinely love you Carol, but I am not wasting antibiotics on a  _dog_.”

“No, no, I’ll make sure his wounds are cleaned every day and take care of him, I promise,” Carol stood up as she spoke, half dragging Daryl with her because she still hadn’t let go of him.

“Jo, he’s waking up,” David walked out of the room and Carol’s grin grew larger as she moved toward the door, dropping Daryl’s hand before she disappeared behind it.

“I hope you’re prepared for fur babies, Dixon, because that’s a thing that just happened,” Jo looked over at him, humour stamped all over her face and her eyes bright with it as he grunted. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing at his neck before he shrugged.

“If she wants it, we keep it.” He mumbled and Jo cackled beside him, nodding.

“And you’re gonna feed it? I know she’ll take care of it, but now-a-days…” Jo sounded doubtful and even though he’d brought the same points up to Carol on the walk back to the camp, and while they waited, he bristled at her tone.

“We got it,” he finally glared at her and she smiled smugly before he huffed and followed Carol in to the room. The rat was shaved down from the mid-chest down. His little face had been shaved down too and ugly sutures held the skin together over his left eye. His right front leg was gone, cut off completely, leaving a long wound with stitches. He was a light brown colour under all that dirt, and the fur on his back was long and fluffy. Carol was stroking a finger down over his head and dragging it under his chin as he licked at her fingers weakly. His tail just barely managed to lift and lower, thumping gently.

“He likes me,” Carol grinned up at him, her eyes bright and her face lit up in a way he hardly saw anymore, and he swallowed, watching them. “I’m gonna name him Lucky,” she offered and he huffed out a chuckle.

“Fucking ironic,” he mumbled and she waved him closer, taking his hand again and pulling it closer to the bed. She held his hand in front of the dog, who sniffed him and licked at his fingertips gently.

“Well you named him,” she pointed out with a grin. “You said he was one lucky dog.”

“What kinda of dog do you think he is?” He ignored her jibe and she chuckled as she peered at the small thing.

“Chihuahua definitely with those ears. He’s a bit big though – and all that fur, maybe a bit of terrier or Pomeranian in him too. Little lion Lucky,” she rubbed the dog's frankly fucking enormous ears, and his tail weakly wagged again.

Daryl watched her face light up again and heaved a sigh, knowing he was going to do whatever it fucking took to make sure the thing lived.

~*~*~*~

Nearly a week later, Daryl watched as Carol spread a blanket out on the floor, the little dog watching from his cushion next to her. He was doing good – Carol added willow bark to his water and made him take it to alleviate the pain. She made up ginger and garlic poultices that smelled oddly delicious and put them on him daily to prevent infection. She took him to the clinic with her, to dinner with her – pretty much every where she went, the little thing did too.

But it distracted her and kept her busy – and truth be told, knowing he had some overnight hunts coming up, he was glad she wasn’t alone. Shockingly enough, the dog had started attempting to re-learn how to walk the day after the damn surgery. He’d complained when she tucked the tiny thing into bed with them at night, but sometimes he woke up with a little ball of warmth pressed against his back and he actually kind of liked the little asshole.

He’d always wanted a dog as a kid – and while this thing wasn’t the one he’d have chosen for himself as a kid or an adult, it looked at Carol like she’d hung the moon, so it was alright. Barely even barked, which Carol said was odd for the breed. He figured living in hiding from walkers had taught the thing not to make a sound. Carol had sat down now, and the little thing hopped out of bed slowly, before climbing in to her lap with a contented sigh.

“How’s it coming?” She glanced over at where he was crouched on the hearth, stirring the stew she had placed to the left of the fire he’d built to the side in the fireplace. Glowing embers surrounded the iron pot, and he’d been turning it carefully and adding more embers as needed.

“Smells fucking delicious,” he offered and she laughed at him as a soft knock echoed throught he room.

“Oh that’s them, I’ll get it.” She started to get up, but Daryl simply rolled his eyes.

“S’open,” he hollered and Carol glared at him as Maggie and Glenn opened the door, coming in and shutting it behind them.

“I could smell it all the way down the hall, I’m  _starving_ ,” Maggie spoke in a rush as she walked over to Carol, sitting down with a small smile. “Hey Lucky, who’s a good boy?” She reached over, scratching the dog’s ears gently. “He’s looking good! Looks like his wound is healing nice – I can take a look later, if you want?” Maggie had grown up helping her father out, and had been a god send to Carol over the last week. Carol’d never owned a dog, let alone one with injuries like this, so she’d worried about everything from the dog trying to walk to what she should feed him and everything in between.

“Thanks for having us guys,” Glenn had come over to sit on the hearth across from Daryl, eying the closed pot eagerly. “It’ll be great to eat in peace and quiet for once.”

“Ain’t gonna be quiet with you here, Glenn,” Daryl pointed out and Maggie choked out a laugh behind him as the younger man glared at him.

“I don’t talk  _that_  much,” he huffed and Maggie hummed as Carol glanced over at them.

“No, you really do, Glenn,” Carol offer with a pulled face of sympathy and Daryl chuckled. “Not that’s it’s not a  _welcome_  interruption to our regularly scheduled evening program of hums and grunts.” Glenn shot him a smug grin at that and Daryl glared at Carol - but there was no heat in it and she knew it.

“Stop,” he huffed out and Maggie pulled her knees to her chest, staring around with a slight smile.

“When are you two gonna see it?” She sighed as she spoke and Carol frowned, looking over at her.

“See what?” She asked with a furrowed brow and Glenna and Maggie shared a look.

“Nothin’ – never mind. What’s for dinner?” She asked eagerly, and her stomach growled loudly right after she spoke, causing Carol to giggle and Glenn to laugh out loud. “Oh god,  _sorry_.”

“Rabbit stew. And we got some rolls to go with dinner – Daryl sweet talked them out of Jane – the lady who runs the kitchen?” Carol teased and Daryl huffed.

“You asked me to get them. And I didn’t sweet talk anyone, I just brought extra meat in today,” he grumbled and Glenn laughed next to him, his laughter growing until everyone was looking at him strangly.

“Sorry, sorry – it’s just have you ever tried to picture  _Daryl_  sweet talking  _any one_?”

“You keep it up, and I ain’t feeding you,” Daryl muttered as Carol’s giggles joined Glenn’s and soon even Maggie was laughing as Carol gently mocked him – coming up with what she thought would be the best ‘Daryl Dixon pick-up lines’.

The light mood carried them through dinner, with Maggie eating almost three bowls of the stew and Carol sucking the gravy off bits of rabbit meat and feeding them to Lucky, who wagged his tail eagerly each time, licking the juice from her fingers. Daryl snuck him a carrot or two and soon enough they were all stuffed.

Maggie had checked the dog’s stitches and they were all enjoying the tea Carol had made until Maggie suddenly interrupted Glenn’s story about a run they’d made the other day with words that he’d been expecting for well over a week. “I’m pregnant!”

Silence fell and Glenn stared at her, his mouth hanging open for a moment. “That’s wonderful!” Carol spoke first, hugging Maggie tight as she congratulated her and Glenn. “You both are going to be wonderful parents,” she spoke softly and Maggie shot an apologetic look to Glenn.

“I know, we weren’t supposed to say anything yet but I had to tell  _someone_  Glenn. And it’s Carol and Daryl. They’re not gonna tell. You’re not gonna tell are you? It’s only two months along - we wanted to wait until everything was... okay before telling the rest of the family.” She rushed her words and Carol nodded, her expression serious.

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word. But we all know Daryl is just a  _huge_  gossip queen,” she deadpanned, causing Maggie to giggle and roll her eyes.

“One of these days he’s gonna get back at you for how often you tease the heck outta him,” she pointed out and Carol glanced at Daryl, who nodded as she scrunched her face up in protest, wrinkling her nose while she pouted at him. He shook his head at her, rolling his eyes as he looked at Maggie and Glenn.

“I’m happy for you both,” he spoke to Glenn mostly, who grinned.

“I’m scared shitless. I mean, we all sort of had Judith but that was different. That was mostly Carol, and…” Glenn trailed off for a moment and Carol smiled.

“And Beth,” she finished and Maggie smiled brightly, the corners of her mouth wobbling.

“After the prison she told me – bout how she wanted you two to have a baby – start your own family.” Daryl spoke in a low voice, avoiding their gazes as he stroked Lucky’s fur gently. “She’d have been happy for you.” He looked up at that and Maggie sniffled as she nodded, dropping a hand to her stomach gently.

“I feel guilty sometimes, because I’m so happy about it,” Maggie spoke softly and Carol hugged her gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in to her side.

“Don’t you dare. No one would be more delighted than your sister and your dad. They’re still with you – they always will be, but the heart was made to make more and more room for love,” she pointed out in a soft voice, and Glenn nodded as Maggie looked up at her with wide eyes. “It’s taken me a while – and I’m still not all the way there, but I think it’s okay to feel safe here. It may not last but it’s here now and we get to settle in and not feel guilty about being the ones who made it. We get to start families and be happy and not feel badly about that.”

Maggie sniffled again and she smiled softly at Carol. “Thank you,” she spoke softly and suddenly the silence was broken by her stomach, growling loudly once more. She laughed at that, her face reddening. “Also I want to eat like,  _everything_. Which is not the easiest thing around here,” she giggled and Carol shook her head.

“We’ll make dinner more often, then you’re not rationed. And anything you need – questions or someone to cry with or just anything – you let me know, alright? I’ve done this before.” Carol laughed as Glenn moved over to the hearth to spoon more stew out for Maggie.

“Thank you Carol,” she beamed at her and Daryl sat back with Glenn, happy to see the two of them happier. Lucky got up, hop-walking over to Maggie’s lap and crawling in to it as she laughed, licking him up gently and stroking him as he licked at her arm where his head rested.

“Fucking mutt,” Daryl grumbled and Maggie shushed him.

“He’s just the luckiest little dog, stumbling into our family. We’re all lucky,” she added, smiling over at him gently until he felt obligated to nod in agreement. “It may not seem like it some days – but we are. We’re here, and we’re safe and we have hope. It’s more than most have.”

Daryl watched as Glenn moved over next to his wife and conversation resumed – this time Glenn offering to look for a pet store for Lucky on his next run – maybe grab some supplies. Maggie talked about some sort of harness for three legged dogs while she petted the dog, occasionally taking bites out of the bowl Glenn held for her.

Daryl tended to the fire and watched the low light flicker across Carol’s face as she smiled at them – content in a way he hadn’t observed in her for a long time. Her words about settling down had made hope bubble in his chest and he smiled to himself as he placed another log on the fire. He’d never been much of one to believe in luck – but maybe Maggie was right. Maybe his luck was about to change.


	10. 015. audience

**_015\. audience_ **

When they were informed of the "town hall” meetings that occurred monthly, Daryl did pretty much everything he could to try to secure watch that night. No such luck though – apparently the first meeting was mandatory, since they introduced new members to the community in a more formal setting. “It’s fucking dumb is what it is,” he grumbled under his breath to Rick as he watched the other man bounce Judith on his lap with ease as he fed her with his free hand.

“It fosters a sense of community Daryl. How many people have you actually connected with outside of our group? One? Maybe two? It’s been the same for all of us – we’re still very much the outsiders here and we need to integrate.” Rick spoke in a low voice and gave him a simple look that Daryl ignored, instead he watched Judith squeal with impatience, her fingers reaching up to poke at Rick’s mouth as she demanded attention – and the food that came with it.

He knew Rick was right. Strength was in numbers and they were a small group within a large community. If shit went down – not that he expected it to, but they’d been behind supposedly safe gates before – strength was in numbers. Resources were in numbers. “I don’t like it,” he spoke up in a louder complaint.

“You stand up, they introduce you and Carol, you sit down. It’s not a lot, okay. You don’t have to put on a god damn show or anything – just stand up, nod, trying not to look like you’d murder them all in their sleep-”

“He means  _smile_ , pookie,” Carol offered from his left and he glared at her irritably. “And maybe not look at your wife like that. You know. Love of your post-apocalyptic life, woman you committed to, vowed to love, honor, cherish and obey…”

He huffed out a laugh at that, despite his irritation. She’d retreated back to teasing non-seriousness with him ever since they'd found Lucky in the woods. He tried to remind himself of what he’d promised that day – to be patient. To wait her out. But it was frustrating as hell to live with an imitation of the  _one_ thing he wanted, but never being able to actually  _get_  it. “Pretty sure they got rid of that obey shit. And it was women vowing it – and if it were in our _vows_ , you’d have quit right then.” He glanced up the table where several people were sitting close enough to listen in to their small group’s conversation now. He hated eating in the mess – hated the feeling of everyone watching them, judging them all. But he especially hated how every interaction between him and Carol felt like a show. Put on for the benefit of the good townsfolk.

“I could have sworn I heard you vow to obey me – must have imagined it,” she grinned at him, her nose crinkling as she inched closer to him, Lucky in her lap as she pouted up at him playfully. “Aw well, maybe I can work it into a vow renewal.”

“Carol…” he could see the mirth in her eyes and he knew well enough he was no match for her when it came to shit like this – teasing and witty words. She loved to poke at him in public like this because she knew he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – say shit to her. He shook his head and looked back to Rick who shrugged, shaking his head as he grinned.

“We’re going to go,” she decreed, stroking Lucky’s head as he panted happily in her lap. She looked up at him, her brows arched in question and he sighed before nodding.

“That’s it, I’m just sending you to her whenever you complain about anything,” Rick observed out loud and Carol giggled beside him. “I don’t know how she does it.”

“Well I don’t kiss and tell, Rick,” Carol observed cheekily, reaching across Daryl to tickle at Judith’s feet gently. She pressed in to his side and both he and Rick went still at the action. “But he’s all yours now; I’m off to the clinic. I’ll see you at home later,” Carol slid her empty plate under Daryl’s before gathering the dog in her arms and standing. She bent down, a hand sliding in to his hair as she pushed it back and turned his head toward her. As much as he hated all of the “public” displays, he never ever grew tired of this – the soft, simple goodbye kisses she made a habit of exchanging with him every morning. Truth be told it was probably  the only reason he accompanied her to breakfast every morning he could – every morning he wasn’t already out hunting.

Her kisses here always fleeting – like raindrops on his dehydrated lips, all he wanted to do was grasp her and drink far more deeply than he was allowed. But these little fleeting kisses were better than nothing at all, so he always made the most of it. Leaned his head into her hand, memorized the feel of her fingertips against his jaw as he pressed his mouth to hers and tried to convey a thousand unspoken words into the tiny peck. She smiled as she pulled back, her fingers brushing through his hair once more before she turned with the dog in hand and walked off with purpose. It was probably for the best that they were limited, to be honest. He wasn’t sure he’d have a clue what to do with any sort of deeper kiss – what he knew about that shit could fit on the head of a pin. He’d never been the type to kiss girls. Not the way he wanted to kiss Carol, anyway.

“She’s getting better,” Rick’s voice was low in his ear and Daryl turned back to him, tearing his eyes from the door Carol had just left through as he smiled down at Judy. “I’ve hardly seen her touch Jude since we got them both back.” Daryl frowned, shaking his head at Rick silently. Rick wasn’t wrong in that she’d been much more distant from the little girl than she’d ever been before.

“I don’t know. Something happened out there on the road. With Ty and those girls. She ain’t talked about it though – not to me anyway.” Rick nodded, cradling Judith closer as he frowned down at her.

“I could talk to Ty…” he offered softly and Daryl shook his head sharply.

“Naw, man. I could do that too. But she’ll talk when she’s ready. She just ain’t ready yet. And she’ll get there with Judy – she’s been getting better, you know that.” Rick nodded, remaining quiet for a moment before he looked up.

“I just feel responsible,” he finally offered in a pained voice. “I put her out there- I know it had something to do with Judith… I did this.”

“We all did this. What if you’d just given the prison up? What if I let Carl take the shot he wanted to when the Governor rolled up on us? What if I’d listened to Beth and looked for survivors afterward? Whole world is nothing but what if’s Rick. Can’t let it kill you – I know. I got more than enough what if’s to keep me awake at night. Whatever happened to those girls, happened. Can’t go back. Can’t change it. Just gotta try now – move forward, not back. Carol’s not there yet. I’m not even entirely there yet – not after Atlanta. But we’ll get there.” He finally finished and looked up to see Rick looking at him seriously, his gaze intent.

“You’ll get there together,” Rick lifted his brows as he looked at Daryl, who fidgeted with the cutlery left on his empty plate, glancing away. “It’s a good thing. I’m happy for you.” He reached over, squeezing Daryl’s shoulder once before dropping his hand to cradle Judith’s belly, pulling the little girl in to his chest.

“Ain’t like that Rick,” Daryl shrugged and avoided his gaze.

“It _is_  like that. And both of you will catch up to that fact when you’re good and ready. But that doesn’t mean it’s not like that right now – while you’re waiting on her. Never thought it’d be you first, gotta say,” Rick laughed and Daryl flinched, sitting up and hunching forward.

“Who else knows?” He finally muttered, just loud enough for Rick to hear him. Rick shook his head, a bewildered smile crossing his face.

“Daryl – the way you two have always been? We all knew. The way you look at her now? You can pretend it’s for other reasons all you want, but it’s not difficult to see. No one is going to – to say anything to you about it. We  _all_ want you two to be happy. Together.” Daryl dragged a hand over his face as he listened to Rick, nodding sharply and standing abruptly.

“You tell them all – if they say anything to her…” He let the threat trail off because they both knew it was empty. But the idea of their whole family just knowing what a joke he was making out of himself made him want to escape as soon as possible -  he grabbed his plates and avoided Rick’s gaze as he moved to leave. If everyone knew they’d be  _watching_  – somehow the idea of his family watching was even worse than this bunch of strangers. Because they  _knew_  them – they knew the truth and it would be so much worse if he fucked this up in front of them. He could feel Rick’s eyes on him as he exited through the door, his body stiff and everything in him wanting to break out into a run.

~*~*~*~*~

“You said you’d go this morning!” Carol looked exasperated as she crossed her arms and stared at him, her head tilted and her foot tapping – she looked every inch the part of an irritated wife and he had to fight not to grin at it.

“No  _you_  said I’d go.” He pointed out petulantly and she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. He didn’t move from his spot on the floor and Lucky hopped over to him, climbing up into his lap and licking his chin as Daryl scratched his back. “See? The rat doesn’t want me to go either.”

“The rat, as you call him, is coming with us. It’s a half hour tops Daryl, we don’t have to stay past the introductions. Come on. Don’t make me go stand there by myself while both of us are introduced,” her eyes pleaded with him and he suddenly felt like utter shit about the whole thing. The last thing Carol needed was someone who wouldn’t stand beside her, even for stupid shit like this. He didn't ever want to have  _anything_  in common with her last asshole husband - other than her.

He stopped stroking Lucky and nodded, picking the dog up and climbing up from the floor. “You’re right, I’m being a dick. We’ll go. We can stay until whenever you want to leave if you want to see what these things are all about.”

“Well that was… way easier than I thought it’d be.” She finally spoke slowly and he cradled the dog to his chest, shrugging.

“Ain’t gonna kill me to go. I don’t like it, but it’s stupid to kick up a fuss.” He frowned, remembering all the times she’d pulled him along into shit like this. The Greene farm, the council – Carol had always been there, nudging him into more responsible roles. “No different than the council, right? Just more people.”

“Right,” she agreed, suddenly beaming at him. She stepped closer, lifting a hand to press against his shoulder as she raised on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re a good man, Daryl.”

“Wasn’t til I met you,” he spoke without thinking, and for a moment she stared up at him, the air heavy between them as she opened her mouth to say something. Lucky yipped between them, startling them both into stepping back, their faces flushed. Carol mumbled an excuse about changing and Daryl glared down at the tiny puppy in his hands. “Listen here, fur ball – it ain’t gonna be like that. You gotta work  _with_  me or I’ll be giving you to Asskicker as a birthday present, got it?” He growled at the dog, lifting it so he could look at it straight, but the dog just tilted its head at the sound of his voice before licking his nose. He sighed in resignation, and waited for Carol to step back out of the bedroom.

The meeting was held in the Alexandria library, a building big enough to fit all community members comfortably – a fact Daryl was grateful for as he initially tried to herd Carl and Lucky to the back of the room. Carol shook her head, tugging him to the front where the rest of their family was. He hated the feeling of everyone behind them staring at them, but Carol simply sat next to him, laced her fingers through his and squeezed gently, leaning her body weight in to his.

They covered a brief recap of the last meeting before making a few announcements – all given by that douche  _Dan_. Daryl never liked the dude after that first day. He was far too interested in Carol that day, and though he’d not seen him around her since then, the guy still set him on edge. Finally the introductions were made and their group shuffled up to the front of the room to announce their names.

Rick took the lead, introducing Carl and Judith, and one-by-one everyone followed. After Glenn and Maggie introduced themselves, Carol handed Lucky to him and slipped her arm around his waist, leaning in to him as she smiled at the room. “Hi! I’m Carol Dixon – I’ve met a lot of you already at the clinic. This is my husband, Daryl – and our newest addition – Lucky.” She spoke for both of them, and Daryl was fucking grateful for it, but he wasn’t prepared for the sound of it from her mouth - Carol Dixon. His heart seemed to stop, squeezing together – compressing and compressing until he couldn’t breathe – he could only nod silently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he heard her voice echo in his mind.  _Carol Dixon. Carol Dixon. Carol Dixon_.

He glanced down at her, suddenly realizing it was the only name she’d ever be known by again. And he’d never asked her if that was okay – he’d just done it. Sure her old name was that piece of shit Ed’s – but it had been Sophia’s too. And he’d taken it from her. She kept smiling, not paying any attention to him staring intently at her until she looked up and a small frown appeared between her brows. “You okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine,” he managed to respond. Now was not the time to be bringing any of this shit up - just as they were filing off the stage and getting ready to listen to reports about crop rotations and supply manifests. Afterward, they kept getting stopped on the way out by people welcoming them – including a _lot_  of little kids who kept asking ‘Mrs. Dixon’ if they could pet the dog. Every time in filled him with equal amounts of joy and dread – wondering if she felt the loss of her daughter every time she heard it. If she hated that she’d not been given a choice.

He’d talk to her, he promised himself. As soon as they were alone, and off display.


	11. 021. oppression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even trying with the prompts anymore but whatever. i am so sorry about the wait guys. My job is sort of super busy from Feb-Mar and I have had zero percent time for this fic. I promise it hasn't been lack of inspiration - I even know what I'm doing with this. It will come nowhere near the 100 prompts. Probably closer to 25 chapters. Bless you all if you still remember this fic - I really appreciate all the wonderful feedback I've gotten - you're all GREAT ;)

**_021\. oppression_ **

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” she observed as they laid in bed later on that night. He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him in the darkened room, and his hand cradled Lucky – who’d curled up in a ball on his chest the instant he’d climbed in to bed with her. “Everything okay?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, his thoughts crawling through his head, loud and clamoring and so tangled up he didn’t know what to say for fear that tugging on one thought would lead to the whole thing unravelling. And some things they weren’t ready for. He made a non-committal grunt and Lucky flinched, before opening his one eye and stretching.

“I shouldn’t have made you go tonight, if it bothered you this much.” Suddenly Carol was facing him, having rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow so she could peer down at him in the dim light of the room. The window was open – there wasn’t much light outside other than the moon – hung heavy and low in the sky as they’d walked home tonight.

“It’s not that,” he finally spoke, his voice rumbling through his chest as he shook his head.

“But it’s  _something_ ,” she stressed, her brow furrowing as she looked down at him with concern. She was wearing that face – the one that made him feel like shit for making her worry in the first place. He sighed, shifting a bit so he could look up at her.

“I didn’t ask you,” he finally mumbled. He heard her breathing change as he focused on the dog, petting the little thing as it snuffled and snored on his chest.

“What?” She sounded bewildered and he huffed slightly, lifting his hand to wave at her.

“Tonight – you introduced yourself as –”

“Carol Dixon,” she finally spoke into the silence he left with his hesitatation and he nodded. “And?”

“I never asked you – I just took your name away forever and that was shitty. It was your name,” he stressed and she looked at him for a moment before she shook her head.

“It was Ed’s name,” her tone conveyed exactly how she felt about that and he made a noise of protest.

“It was Sophia’s name,” he finally muttered, feeling his eyes burn as he looked at the ceiling. He couldn’t look at her – the soft, loving, pained look she got on her face whenever Sophia was mentioned just fucking killed him.

“Daryl,” her voice was soft, inflected with something he couldn’t quite place but when he looked over at her, she was staring at him with big eyes. “Sophia is mine and she is always with me. You didn’t take that. Sophia was  _Sophia_  – Peletier was a name I always associated with Ed. I’m glad it’s gone. I’d probably have given my maiden name if it’d all happened differently.” She smiled wistfully at that and shook her head. “But it didn’t, so I didn’t. I like Dixon,” she shrugged, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “I’m proud of it.”

He snorted at that, startling Lucky so badly that he shot off his chest, glaring at him before huffing and awkwardly trotting to the foot of the bed, where he curled back up, his head on Daryl’s foot. “Ain’t nobody’s  _proud_  to be a Dixon, Carol.”

“I’m proud of  _you_ ,” she spoke in a calm sure, tone, reaching over as she brushed his hair back from his forehead. “And you’re a Dixon. And so am I, now.”

“Didn’t mean to just do it without asking you,” he finally looked up at her and she smiled, nodding slightly. “Just – don’t want you thinking that that’s what I do.”

“I forgive you. But only because I was unconscious at the time. Next time you won’t be so lucky, mister.” She grinned at that, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He held his breath, wishing she’d linger longer or hold him tighter – anything to keep her near him. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d have probably just gone with it if you’d asked anyway. My maiden name is Murphy.  _Terrible_.” She laughed at that, shaking her head as he stared at her. “I actually thought – when I first met Ed – that his name sounded so fancy, because it was French. God, I was a moron,” she giggled and he shook his head.

“You weren’t,” his chest felt tight as he spoke and she stopped laughing, her face smoothing out as she looked down at him seriously.

“I was…  _young_ ,” she amended her words with a sigh, her head lifting as she looked out of the window at the pale moonlight. “Besides, you had just as little choice. What if this place is safe? A good place? Don’t you ever want to meet someone? Have a family? You still could you know – meet someone young enough – have kids of your own…” She wouldn’t look at him as she spoke, but her head turned when he snorted out loud.

“I got a family. So do you. It’s the same one. Look, I ain’t gonna hold you to anything here – once we settle in. Know it’s safe. But it ain’t ever gonna be me leaving, Carol. I have someone.  _You_  – you’re – you made me better. A better person, when I thought there wasn’t nothing worthwhile about me. You did that. It’s always been you,” he shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with everything he was laying out on the line here, but her eyes were soft and she stared at him, seemingly unable to say a god damned thing. The silence stretched so long that he began to fidget – shifting on the bed, running a hand over his hair and doing everything he could to avoid her gaze.

“You deserve a chance to know love, Daryl,” When she finally spoke, her voice was thick and he felt her gaze skittering over him – avoiding his eyes just as much as he was avoiding hers.

“I know what it is,” his voice was soft and suddenly she was all he could look at. He watched her as he spoke, softly and surely. Her eyes closed and she shook her head, her teeth worrying at her lip. “You don’t gotta – I just wanted you to know. I wrote that name down and I knew what that meant. And I don’t regret it. And it ain’t gonna be me leaving. I just – you deserve to know that much.”

She didn’t speak for a moment, and he could feel her trembling next to him, so he sighed, putting out a hand and brushing his fingers against her elbow. She jumped slightly and glanced down at him, her eyes opening. He wasn’t sure but she looked oddly at peace, something in her face he couldn’t identify, but he welcomed it all the same. She didn’t speak, but she settled down next to him, her head tucked up on his shoulder as she pressed herself against him.

She usually went to sleep on her side of the bed – though at some point in the night he always assumed he reached for her, because they woke up this way. He hesitated for a moment before he tugged his arm out, lifting it and letting it hover there awkwardly for a minute before he finally took a deep breath and dropped his hand to her shoulder, pulling her closer. “We okay?” He finally spoke into the silence and she nodded against his chest, her arm slipping around his waist and squeezing tightly.

She didn’t speak again, and eventually the hush combined with the weight of her against him lulled him to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next day found him out in the woods on his own again – he had drawn a solo hunt that day and he found himself welcoming the chance at solitude. The chance to breathe outside of the walls – and get a chance to think about what he’d done last night. All in all, it wasn’t that bad, really. He hadn’t  _said_  anything in particular. But he’d given her more than enough of a hint, he thought. He preferred to think of it as a head’s up. A warning shot. He didn’t want to blind side her with everything once he felt it was time – he wanted her to see him coming.

He hoped that was what she’d gotten out of it, anyway.

He was on the trail of a small buck when he heard the rustling behind him – not a walker, the steps were light and deliberate. He swung around, crossbow up, only to pause as Michonne emerged from the bushes. “Shit, coulda fucking shot you. Shouldn’t you be off chasing juvenile delinquents after curfew?” He laughed every time he saw Michonne in uniform. Rick wasn’t so bad – he’d damn near clung to that deputy outfit in the beginning. But Michonne was another story all together – and he took pot shots at her whenever he could when she was dressed for “work”.

“Shut up, Dixon. Someone of us can’t roll around in the woods like Pigpen for our jobs. Don’t see you making fun of the surgical scrubs Carol wears to work.” Daryl huffed and rolled his eyes, turning back to follow the trail – knowing well enough that Michonne’d be silent enough behind him that he could continue the hunt. “Might be something to do with how her ass looks in them, hm?”

“Stop,” he glared back at her and she held her hands up with a grin.

“Just an observation, hillbilly, relax.” Her grin was smug and he tried to ignore her as they walked along the trail the buck had left – disturbed branches here and there, bark scraped off of trees as the animal sought food in the fast approaching winter.

“What’re you doing out here anyway?”

“Needed to get out for a bit. Too cooped up in there – enough to drive a woman crazy. Thought you wouldn’t mind the company.” She shrugged, her steps silent on the forest floor as she glided along behind him.

“Don’t mind. If you can keep quiet.” He observed, looking up to judge the position of the sun in the sky. He had maybe three good hours of daylight left. “Just thought you’d been spending all of your off time with the Grimes,” he slid a sidelong glance at her as she shot him a look. He chuckled, nodding. “What? Think I didn’t notice that?”

“Thought you’d be too busy trying to work up the stones to tell your  _wife_  that you’re ass over ankles for her.” Michonne shot back and he shook his head with an irritated sigh. “We’ve only been waiting on you for ages Dixon. Hell – that story you told at dinner the other night? I knew – even back then.”

“I’ll tell her when she’s ready.” He bit the words out after a beat of silence and Michonne tilted her head, observing him. “And she ain’t ready yet.”

“You’re a good man, Dixon,” She finally spoke after they’d gone on a bit in silence. “She talked to you yet? About what happened out there?”

“Not yet. Haven’t really asked her yet either.” He squinted at the ground for a moment, pausing.

“You should. Ask her.” Michonne stated firmly and he frowned, looking over at her.

“When we first went to Atlanta, looking for – for Beth. Before she got taken, she asked why I hadn’t asked her. I told her I knew the girls had died – and she said it was worse than that. She was so –” He paused for a moment, trying to think of the right way to word it. “ _Brittle_  then. Like if you pushed her just a little bit – she’d crumble into ashes.”

“She was. And she’s gotten better. Gotten further from whatever it was that happened. And now you need to push a little bit. She’s not going to break, Daryl. I used to look at Carol before and see it in her – that shared grief of a mother who’d lost her child. But now… I look at her and see things I can’t identify or name. But I see a woman who’s in pain and desperately trying to hide it. You let her hide from it forever and you’ll lose her to that darkness.” Michonne spoke softly, her eyes pinning him down as she stared at him.

“I don’t want to push her,” he observed, his eyes dragging away from hers as she chuckled softly. “She’s been better.”

“It’s been slow as shit and you know it. She’ll drag her feet as long as you let her. Sometimes we need that push – you’ve given her plenty of space already. Plenty of time. She needs to heal and you’re letting that wound in her fester just because you don’t want to be the one to lance it. But she can’t heal unless you do, and sometimes we have to hurt to get better.” Michonne reached out then, her hand squeezing his shoulder in sympathy. “You’re the only one she’d let do it Daryl – and that says a hell of a lot for women like us. She  _trusts_  you and that means something.”

She made sense, he knew – but he also was honest enough with himself to know he was scared shitless. He’d told her last night – he wasn’t leaving. He didn’t want to push her to be the one to walk away.

“She won’t,” Michonne observed and he startled – fuck had he said that out loud?

“Cause you’re being so  _honest_  with Rick, hmm?”

She shook her head, looking up and closing her eyes, soaking in the sunlight for a moment before she shrugged. “Not being dishonest with him. The man… intrigues me. But he also infuriates me, makes me laugh, makes me want to hit him, and hold him back when he seems too close to that edge. I don’t know just what we are yet. And I don’t know if he’s someone I want to take on, permanently speaking. But I respect him. And I like him. And I love his kids. We’ll get wherever we’re going in our own time.”

“So will we,” Daryl pointed out and Michonne shook her head.

“Apples and oranges, my friend. Because you and Carol  _love_  each other. That insanely scarce take-me-as-I-am kind of love. I know you probably weren’t Don Juan before the Turn so you don’t get it – that shit is  _rare_. Some people never find it – not ever. And you’re telling me, after years out here with her, after almost losing her  _how_  many times and we’re finally in this place where we get to think about things like tomorrow or next week or forever – when time is still so precious, you’re going to waste it dancing around?” She shook her head, sucking air through her teeth in a way that reminded him eerily of Merle. “I thought you had bigger balls than that, Dixon.”

He was silent for a beat too long and she grinned at him, smugly assuming she’d won the argument, when he heard the distinct noise of a twig snapping. This time when he turned, fluidly raising his bow up, there was no familiar face stopping his finger from squeezing the trigger and loosing a bolt that shot straight in to the deer’s chest. The creature crumpled gracefully to its knees, death coming almost instantly. He grunted in pleasure – he always liked it when he could fell them in one shot – there was something just not sporting about tracking a wounded, injured deer. It drew the animal’s pain out and made the kill more mercy than skill.

“This ain’t dear Abby,” he finally grumbled over his shoulder to Michonne. “Help me string this fucker up.”

“Fine, but you owe me some deer steak after this,” she muttered, walking with him toward the carcass.

“Venison. Good lord, do  _not_  call it deer steak.” He complained as she laughed, seemingly content to let their earlier discussion go. “I’ll get you some, I promise.”

“No,” she drew the word out as they knelt by the buck, and Daryl started digging through his bag for rope so he could field dress it. “You’ll cook it for me. The mess never does it right. Dinner with the Dixons – that’s what I’m after.”

“You and Rick?” Daryl grinned as she shoved at his shoulder.

“Double date,” she beamed back and he laughed under his breath, before handing her a length of rope.


	12. 037. heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry you guys. I know I've dropped off the face of the internet, and I wish I had an awesome excuse, but it's really just that I've been focussing on work and family life more lately. Plus I just wasn't feeling writing for a bit. So I recharged, re-read a lot of fic for all kinds of fandoms and sort of spent time being a reader for a while. I'm hoping to finish this fic this week - I hate writing WIPs for this very reason - it's the worst for both me and you guys when I lose steam part way through like this. I'll go back to abstaining from them again in the future - one shots and completed multi-chaps only, I promise :) Thank you for all your patience and I'm sorry I made you wait so long.
> 
> This chapter was some necessary angst they had to get through. I wanted this fic to be fluff fluff fluff but given who Daryl and Carol are, that's damn near impossible. I've pictured this scene a thousand different ways, and how I want it to go differs every day lol. I'm not sure I love it, but here it is regardless. Thanks to Gwen for telling me I'm an idiot and it's more than fine <3

**_037\. heartache_ **

It’s a flower.

A simple fucking _flower_ and somehow when he’d been kneeling in the woods, remembering a Cherokee rose in an old beer bottle, it’d never occurred to him that he could fuck everything up with this one little thing.

But when he picked the small yellow and red flowers that look like daisies, turned inside-out, he was simply thinking that flowers cheered her up before. He’d brought her those Cherokee roses all the time in Georgia – they’d always brought a small, sad smile to her face as she touched the petals. Then she’d look up at him and that smile would grow warmer, more furtive – it had been a thing that only they’d shared. Something that he’d thought of as _theirs_. Those flowers, that particular smile and the way they never had to say anything but understood everything.

He wasn’t prepared for how her face froze when she saw him awkwardly place a tin can filled with the cheery, if somewhat droopy, blooms on the small table he’d picked up for the living room after bringing that deer in – it sat between their chairs and held their mugs of tea at night when they sat in front of their fire. “Saw ‘em in the woods today,” he tried to fill the sudden silence, his hand rubbing at his neck as he realized in a single heartbeat that there would be no soft, just for him smile this time. Her eyes were wide, and fastened on the petals like she couldn’t look away – but there was no crinkle of a smile there, no sadness, no softness. She looked horrified and he was frozen for a moment before he understood – he fucked up.

She doesn’t say anything, not even when he snatched them back up, took them out to the balcony and dumped the flowers over the edge before he goes back inside – she was still right where he left her, her hands gripped the arm chairs and her knuckles were white with tension. He knelt in front of her, his hands lifting and dropping – unsure if he should touch her or not. “M’sorry – I thought you’d like ‘em – they’re gone now,” he kept his voice soft, deliberate. He doesn’t have a fucking clue what just happened, but he wanted that expression gone from her face right the fuck now. “Carol.” He hated the pleading tone there, but she was worrying him now, and it still took a moment before she looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated the words a few more times, pulling her hands up and digging the heels in to her eyes as she shook her head. He didn’t speak at all, waiting for a moment until her words stopped and her hands dropped a bit, leaving no more tears in her eyes, but a wounded look on her face.

“It’s okay,” he finally spoke in what he hoped was a soft tone, but it sounded more like a grunt to him and he looked around in frustration before he met her gaze. “Thought they’d cheer you up. I didn’t know – no more flowers, I got it.”

Inexplicably, her expression tightened at that and she looked like she was about to fucking _shatter_ in front of him and he didn’t know what the fuck to do when her breath hitched oddly in her throat. But the sound made his chest feel like it was lit on fucking fire, and he definitely didn’t want to hear it again so he did the only thing he could think of – like an anxious animal, he pulled her down to him, his hands curling gently over her shoulders as he tugged her on to the floor with him, his arms wrapping around her and tightening.

It wasn’t a hug, not really, he was holding her from the side, his arms too tight around her to be comfortable. He’d worked on a cattle farm one summer, back in his twenties – they’d had a machine for the calves when they were given their injections. It applied pressure on all their sides – the vet had called it a squeeze chute – said it relieved anxiety in the things, made them less scared. He’d said it worked on all sorts of animals – and Daryl figured it was all he knew to stop the ragged way she was breathing, and how her whole body shook. So he squeezed, careful not to hurt her, but desperate to see her calmer.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, her half on his lap and half on the floor, and his arms wrapped around her so tightly that even his own muscles were trembling. Her shaking seemed to slow though, and even though her breathing was still rapid, it seemed a lot better. He realized that the whole time he’d been muttering nonsensical things to her – he’s not even sure what the fuck he’d said, but his throat is dry and his mouth feels like sandpaper as she squirmed in his tight grip. His hands loosened immediately and she sagged in to him, her shoulder sinking in to his chest as they both sat, silent for a moment.

He kept looking at her face, hoping to gauge her emotions, while Michonne’s words from the woods the other day kept swimming in his head. “You okay?” He finally spoke out loud – and she turned her body in to his, her face buried in to his shoulder as she shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” her voice was muffled against the cotton of his shirt, and he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He wasn’t really sure what the fuck he was doing – and despite Michonne telling him it had to be him to help her – how the fuck was he supposed to do that? He felt raw and uncomfortable, he didn’t want to say the wrong thing, or fuck everything up worse than he already had. But leaving wasn’t an option. He wasn’t leaving, he’d told her that and he meant it now more than ever. He’d strip himself to the bone if he had to – this was Carol. He’d die for her.

“Don’t be,” he murmured down to the top of her head.  He pressed his face to the soft curls there, still holding her loosely as she gathered herself. “Ain’t your fault.” They stayed that way for another moment, and Daryl could feel a heavy weariness settle in his bones, curling up inside him like a content cat. The room was silent except for the fire crackling and Lucky’s snuffles and slight whimpers from where he was curled up, asleep on his blanket by the fire, his paws twitching as he dreamt. “You ready to talk about it?” Daryl felt her stiffen, but he ignored it, opting to smooth a palm down over her back, his hand circling gently.

“I don’t want to,” she finally mumbled as she pulled back slightly, dislodging his cheek from her hair as she looked up at him.

“I know that,” he nodded as he watched her. “But I think you gotta, Carol. What you said that day on the road – that you couldn’t let yourself feel it, but I had to? I did. That day. Sat down right outside that old barn and I let it hurt. It was fucking painful, but I thought it was what I had to do, you know? And I thought I had to do it on my own. But that wasn’t what made me feel it. You know what did? Sitting by that hospital cot, waiting for you to wake up. Talking to you about the hope for something better here. Unpacking. Planning things – that little rat over there. It all helped me – not sitting alone on the side of the road trying to punish myself for it.” He paused for a moment and she blinked up at him, her eyes red and her face lined with tiredness. “ _You_ helped me.”

“Daryl…” her voice was soft and unsure and he shook his head sharply, cutting her words off.

“Let me help you. I know you said then – that you couldn’t. But we ain’t on the road anymore. This could be it – where we stay. And I _miss_ you. The way you used to be – I don’t know what happened out there with those girls Carol, but it’s made you brittle. It’s made you a shadow of who you used to be – it made you curl up in on yourself. And that’s fine – if that’s what you need to do, that’s fine. But let me curl up in there with you. Tell me – share it. We don’t have to tell nobody else a thing about it – I swear. But seeing you hurt, hurts me – and I’d do anything to make that stop.” She sniffled as he spoke, and he paused when she wiped tears away. Shit – he’d made her cry again, and that’s the last thing he wanted. There was a reason he didn’t talk this much normally – he was shit at it.

She shook her head gently, stealing a glance at him as she sighed. “You’ll hate me.”

“That just ain’t possible, Carol.”

“ _I_ hate me,” she finished as a tear rolled down her cheek. It was different than before – quieter, and somehow all the more heart breaking for it. “I’m not a good person, Daryl. You – you look at me and you think I am, and I’m _not_. I don’t – I don’t deserve any of this, I’m a mur- mur-” His hold tightened on her as she shook her head.

“You had to put them down,” his hand crept up, cradling the back of her head as she pressed her face into his neck, breathing deeply. He felt the dampness of her tears against his skin and she shook her head again. “Don’t make you a murderer.” He was guessing at this point – trying to piece it all together as she let out a sob – a jagged broken sound that tore at his heart. And just like that – like a dam breaking, her words poured out of her like a flood.

“She hadn’t turned,” he could hear the words, whispered into his skin like a secret and he froze. “Lizzie. She hadn’t – she didn’t understand. I _knew_ that – she didn’t understand what they were. Played with them. I’d caught her – the god damn _day before_ I caught her with one of them in the garden. Playing. You killed my friend – that’s what she said and I _knew_ , Daryl, I knew she wasn’t right – wasn’t – but what could I do? I knew it and I still left with Ty. We needed water. If we both went we could carry more, need less trips and I left them – Mika and Lizzie and Judith. I had to talk to Ty about her – figure out what to do without her there to overhear. And we got back – we got back and there was blood,  so much blood, dripping on the grass and Mika was laying there – so still and she said-” her voice broke here, and she gasped as she turned into him more fully, her fingers gripping his shirt as he held her tighter. He could feel tears stinging his eyes as he listened, fighting to just let her get it out. God, _Mika_. The kid had been sweeter than pie – just a little girl. Just _another_ little girl.

“She said that she’d prove it – that they were still people and we just had to wait for Mika to come back and we’d see. And she’d been just about to – to – _Judith_.” Daryl squeezed her then, shifting on the floor until he had her cradled against him, his legs spread and her pulled in to him as he fought his own tears.

“Lizzie – she used to have panic attacks. Even at the prison. Mika’d always get her to calm down – tell her to look at the flowers and breathe. Look at the –” Her voice choked there and Daryl pressed his face to the top of her head as she clutched at him for a moment. “He couldn’t do it – I had to. It was my fault – I should have seen it. I shouldn’t have left them alone. I took her out to the field and she asked if I was mad at her. Daryl – I – I told her _no_ , I told her it would be fine and then I told her to look at those flowers and I – and I-” She barely got that words out, and he shook his head, hugging her to him as he felt his own tears spill over.

“Shhh. That ain’t you, Carol.” He spoke the words over and over as she cried in his arms and he held her, trying to brand the words in to her skin. “That ain’t you – that’s what you had to do but it ain’t who you are. We all did things. All of us.  It ain’t who we are.” He could feel her shaking her head as he spoke and took a breath. “It ain’t. I got a man killed over a fucking rabbit, Carol. After I lost Beth – I found these assholes. I thought – I’d dealt with pricks like that my whole life – Merle and his buddies. Thought I knew – thought I could handle it. Thought even if I couldn’t – well I didn’t give a shit no more, right? Beth was gone. You were gone.

 They decided who got what by claiming it – first come, first serve. Got in a fight with another hunter there over a rabbit. A fucking _rabbit_ , Carol. We split it but he was pissed, tried to say I stole his half and I knew what these guys were like. I _knew_ , and I didn’t do anything to stop them. They beat him to death, and I fell asleep to the sound of it. He was a prick, but so were they. Ain’t nobody deserved that. That – that’s nothing compared to – to what happened to you. But we survived, Carol. And I’m grateful for it. And we did what we had to do – but it’s not who I am. And it’s not who you are, you understand?” She had quieted down then, looking up at him silently with her bloodshot eyes and her puffy cheeks and nose.

“What if it is?” She asked him quietly and he shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. His mouth lingered there, much like hers had done on the side of that road.

“It ain’t. I know you. We won’t ever forgive ourselves for it, Carol, okay – so we’ll forgive each other. I’ll forgive you because you did what you had to do to protect Judy.”

“And I’ll forgive you because you had to survive and you couldn’t do it on your own,” her voice was rough, raw with emotion as she looked up at him. “You won’t tell anyone will you? Rick or the others? Ty said he didn’t want to talk about it – he wanted to forget it.”

Daryl bit back the words that choked at him – Tyreese had let her carry this – all on her own. The man was built like a brick shithouse and couldn’t handle one girl – couldn’t handle the guilt. He wasn’t built for it, Daryl knew – and if they’d stayed out on the road much longer, he wouldn’t have made it. “He can forget it – don’t mean you got to. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself. But I won’t tell them, I promise.”

She nodded at that, her grip on him relaxing as he shifted, the ache in his backside and bones finally making itself felt. He grunted in pain and she pulled away, edging herself off of him, even though the last thing he wanted was to let her go. “We should go to bed. God, your back must be killing you,” she fretted, and he let her. He knew focusing on him would let her distance herself from everything they’d just been through.

She fussed over him until the fire was banked and they were tucked up in bed. He reached for her, pulling her closer than he ever had before, his legs tangling with hers as he wrapped himself around her. She was quiet for a moment, her arms slowly snaking around him as she pressed her face in to his chest. Her breathing seemed to speed up as she lay there, and he looked down at her, nudging her with a grunt. “Hey. What’re you thinking?”

“Everything is going to be different tomorrow,” she finally spoke slowly and he nodded.

“Different ain’t always bad,” he pointed out and she hummed in agreement. “Can be all kinds of good. Let’s see what it brings, alright?”

“Alright.”


	13. 020. tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I am so so sorry you guys. I kind of... lost my TWD muse there for a bit. Can I blame hiatus? I'm going to anyway. I'm so sorry this took so long. It's been so long I actually forgot my well plotted outline (this is what I get for keeping it in my head and not written down ugh). So I sort of just let Daryl lead the story and he surprised me a bit lol. But I think I have a new plan, and it is an immensely fluffy plan, so yes. Hopefully I can finish this up and never ever write another WIP again, because it hurts all of us lol. Not to say you won't get stuff, but I'll be damn well sure that it's completed so none of us suffer from now on :)

**_020\. tomorrow_ **

She was sleeping harder than he’d ever seen her sleep. Even on nights that she had lingering headaches and took her meds, she didn’t sleep like she was now. It was a bone-weary kind of sleep, her limbs were heavy and all tangled up in his, and her face was relaxed in a way that he hasn’t ever seen on her before.

He'd woken up a while ago, but she was sleeping so deeply, he wasn’t moving for the world. He took the time to study her face – the fine arch of her brows, the delicate freckles across her face. It was funny but he was so happy to see those freckles back, and noticeable. On the road the dirt and grime would cover them, make them less noticeable – but here she’s fresh and clean every day, and he hasn’t seen her that way since the prison. His eyes traced across the bridge of her nose, the line of her mouth, soft and open as she blew out little gusts of air that tickled his skin.

She was all tucked up into him, her face pressed into his chest and her hair tickling his shoulder and neck. His arm had been numb when he’d woken up, but he still traced his fingers over her arm, delighting in the soft feel of her skin and the almost painful pins-and-needles feeling that came whenever he moved his arm.

He wanted to stay like this forever. And it’s such a fucking sad thought that he almost cringed except – except he really _does_. He wanted to wake like this every day – and though he wouldn’t want every night to end up like last night had, he could think of a few other reasons for them to wake up like this.

The mere thought made him flush, his skin warming with embarrassment and he felt her shift next to him, burrowing in deeper as she grumbled. He held his breath and waited a moment as she made small, frankly fucking _adorable_ , noises of protest before squinting one eye open.

“God what time is it?” Her voice was blurred with sleep, thick and raspy and fuck if it didn’t sound that much sexier because of it.

“Dunno, haven’t looked. We ain’t working today,” he pointed out with a shrug that set off another round of painful tingles in his arm. “Who cares?”

“I feel like we slept forever,” she groaned in protest, rubbing her eyes as she shifted off of him, staring to sit up. He hissed a blood rushed back to his arm and she glanced over her shoulder at him in concern. “Oh shit, Daryl, I’m sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he mumbled, sitting up with her. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was just after ten – they’d missed breakfast. His stomach growled at the mere thought and Carol giggled next to him. He blinked, looking at her with a grin. “What do you say we get out of here today? Missed breakfast and I’m fucking starving – we could pack some shit – go out scouting around? Get out of this place for a while?”

Her face softened at that, and she shifted next to him, hugging her arms around herself as she looked at him. “I’d… I’d really like that, actually. What about Lucky though?” She nudged the tiny dog that was still curled up at her feet and he shrugged.

“I’ll run over – see if Maggie and Glenn can watch him. If not, we could take him with us – ain’t like he’s dumb enough to make noise.” He shifted, thinking about it. This was a good plan – she was probably still a bit raw from last night, it’d give them time to recover a bit – away from the prying eyes of the town, away from the concerned stares of their family.

“I’ll get ready – pack some food, get the weapons ready.” Carol shot him a small smile, still not quite able to meet his eyes, but he knew it would come. She just needed time – see he wasn’t going nowhere.

~*~*~*~

It was finally turning nippy, and there was a sharp chill in the air as they made their way through the woods quietly. Glenn had agreed to watch Lucky, and had told them areas to avoid in a fretful tone while Daryl rolled his eyes. Shit, like he wasn’t out here damn near every day? Like he’d let anything happen to Carol. Like she couldn’t take care of herself, when it came down to it. She’d rescued his ass as many times as he’d rescued hers.

The leaves were just starting to turn, the greens paling as golds, yellows and reds creeped along their edges. Carol stuck close by him, silently dogging his footsteps as they strolled with absolutely no plan or destination. His crossbow was cradled in his arms, on the lookout for a rabbit or squirrel to add to their breakfast.

“We just wandering then?” Her voice was quiet at his back and he shrugged, pausing to glance over his shoulder at her.

“Dunno, not like there’s places to go. Just thought we could get away for a bit,” he felt her hand, small and warm at his back and she pressed it just above his waist.

“Thank you, Daryl,” her voice was quiet but strong with sincerity and he turned to look at her carefully. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes and he sighed, shifting his weapon and reaching for her. His hand slid along her jaw and he applied just enough pressure to make her meet his eyes.

“I told you before, I ain’t leaving Carol. And what we did ain’t who we are. Stop avoiding me, because I don’t look at you and see what you did, alright?” He didn’t shout but he tried to push every ounce of his meaning in to the quiet words for her. His hand still cradled her jaw, his fingers brushing against the soft skin there as he lingered. Her brow furrowed and she looked up at him silently and nodded. “We’ve all done things – hell even way back at the farm – that kid? The one we had locked up? What I did to him to get information – we’ve all done things Carol. I’ve done things. Tortured kids and killed people and _left_ – that what you see when you look at me?”

“No! God no, Daryl, of course not. You’re – you’re-” She paused for a moment, visibly pulling herself together for a moment, her eyes darting around them warily as she reached up and took the hand that was cupping her jaw. She curled her own around and she looked up at him clearly. “You’re the best man I know.”

The words were so simple, so sure, that they hit him like a punch to the gut, knocked all the wind out of him as he shook his head in automatic denial. “No, don’t Daryl, you _are_. You _saw_ me when no one else did, and you protected me, taught me to protect myself. You gave me a choice, a chance - and you were the first man who’d ever done that for me. _Ever_. You’re – you’re _so_ good, and you just don’t see it. That’s what I see when I look at you. The best man I know – a man who’s been through so much shit, and just keeps _trying_. That’s what makes you strong, that’s what always made you strong and if – after the farm, when I didn’t trust Rick? If you’d have said you didn’t either – I would have walked away with you that night and not looked back. But you said he was a good man, and I trusted you with my life. You stayed, I stayed.” She paused for a moment and took a shaky breath, her eyes never leaving his. “If you’re not leaving, I’m not leaving, Daryl. I just – I feel raw today. Like I don’t want you to see me that way.” Her hands were gripping his tightly and he swallowed, emotion blocking his throat for a moment.

He wasn’t much of a talker, but he often felt like Carol made him constantly forget that. Not that they yammered on endlessly or anything, but she slipped through the cracks and seemed to just curl right up next to his soul – talking didn’t seem like such a hardship with her, because even when he couldn’t get the words out, she understood what he _meant_. But he knew now wasn’t a time to stay silent, and he swallowed tightly, hoping that he could say what he needed to without fucking this all up.

“You’re the first person who ever looked at me like I was worth something, Carol. Ain’t nobody ever looked at me like you did back then. I never looked at you and saw a mouse, or nothin’ else back then. I could see it in you – like you were just waitin for the rest of it to burn away. I look at you – and I see someone indestructible. You keep trying too Carol, even when you say you can’t, even when you _think_ you can’t. You’re just…” His voice trailed off as he fought to find the words, shaking his head sharply. He didn’t know how to say any of it – to convince her of everything she was to him. He made a noise of frustration and gripped her hand in his. “You’re everything. Everything, Carol. You’re strong, and you care so damn much, and you protect everyone, and you sacrifice _so_ much and I want to give all that back to you. So if you think I’m the best man you know, I think you made me that way. I wouldn’t’ve done it for nobody else but you. Knowing the things you done? To protect you and Sophia, to protect our family here and now – that don’t make you ugly to me Carol, it just makes you more beautiful.”

“But I couldn’t protect anyone…” her voice was thick with repressed tears and he shook his head.

“You _tried_. I couldn’t neither. Not Merle or Sophia or Beth… but I tried. _We_ tried. Tryin’s all we can do in this world. Do you get that? Tryin’s all we can do, and you’re the only one who makes me try. Carol I – I knew what I was doing when I wrote your name on that form. It weren’t cause I wanted to keep an eye on you, and it wasn’t any of those other bullshit reasons I gave you. It’s cause I can’t… I can’t live without you. _That’s_ what I meant when I said I ain’t leaving. I _can’t_.”

“Daryl…” He looked up from their hands, so tightly intertwined that his knuckles were white with pressure, to see her staring at him in amazement. “I don’t know if I…”

“I get it. I do. You ain’t ready. You’re still hurtin’ and I get that. I ain’t going nowhere. I’m here, just – I want you to see you how I see you. To see what I see when I look at you, and I ain’t gonna push you or say the words but I want you to know. When you’re ready… I’m here.” She sniffled at that and pulled her hands away from his and he felt his stomach drop but she lifted them up to his face, her fingers smoothing over the scuff on his cheeks as she nodded.

“We can go slow,” she offered, her body inching closer to him and he nodded dumbly. Hell, he’d fucking sit still with her if she wanted. She laughed then, and he flushed – he must have spoken his thoughts out loud. “Not _that_ slow. And I don’t know how slow we _can_ go given that we’re sort of married.” She giggled again and shrugged. “But I want to try. Because you make me want to try too, Daryl.”

He grinned stupidly at that, the pressure in his chest easing as she stepped even closer to him. The sun was warm on his shoulders and the leaves rustled in the trees above them, clinging to the last of the life left in them. He held his breath as she stepped neatly in between his crossbow and his chest, his heart thundering as her eyes never left his, even when she was slowly rising on her tiptoes. When her mouth met his, a soft brush of her lips against his own, he thought his heart was going to explode through his chest. He wanted kiss her like his survival depended on it, grip her tightly and haul her against him and kiss her and never _stop_ kissing her until he could taste her in his mouth, always. But he kept still, his free hand sliding hesitantly to her hip as he kept his mouth soft and his hands still. It wasn’t swift like all those kisses in the mess hall. It wasn’t unexpected or harsh like that first kiss in the clinic had been either – it was soft and hesitant but careful and _deliberate_.

It set his heart racing and made him long for more, but _like_ it. It was perfect, he thought, and it would change every kiss that came after it, because every single one would be for them. Him and her – not anyone else. When she pulled away, she was smiling even through her breathing was faster, matching time with his heart. “Slow’s good,” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and she smiled wider at that.

She dropped her hand and laced her fingers through his, and he felt that same thrill he got on their evening walks, but ten times over because it was just _them_ here. “Slow’s perfect,” she offered as they turned to keep walking, eyes open for anything. Her other hand rested on the hilt of her knife and he gripped his crossbow tightly. She laughed lightly, her eyes crinkling as she looked at him and he rose his brows at her, silently asking what she was laughing about. She shook her head and looked up, letting the sun hit her face and highlight all those freckles again. He swore, one day he was gonna count every single one. “Just thinking about what you said last night – about how tomorrow might not be a bad different.”

He grunted in reply and she walked closer to him, her hip brushing his every other step. “Well it ain’t,” he offered, barely able to stop himself from grinning so wide it’d hurt his cheeks.

“Nope,” she agreed with a saucy smile and a grin. “It ain’t bad at all.”


End file.
